THE 


John  M.  Webb 
Library 


Presented  to 

TRINITY  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

By  Mrs.  John  M.  Webb 


1917 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/transcendentalis01frot 


' 


<1 


TRANSCENDENTALISM 


IN 

new  England 


A HISTORY 


BY 

OCTAVIUS  BROOKS  FROTH  INGHAM 

Author  of  “ Life  of  Theodore  Parker f “ Religion  of  Hnimanityp  &*c.. 


y x s 3 s 

NEW  YORK 

G.  P.  PUTNAM’S  SONS 

182  Fifth  Avenue 

1876 


Copyright, 

G.  P.  PUTNAM’S  SONS. 
1S76. 


-1 


«\\ 


Jj-I 

Ff-j-iT 


CONTENTS. 


J 

PAGE 


Contents  iii 

Preface v 

I. 

Beginnings  in  Germany i 

IT. 


Transcendentalism  in  Germany — Kant,  Jacobi,  Fichte,  etc.  14 

III. 

Theology  and  Literature — Sciileiermacher,  Goethe,  Rich- 
ter, etc 47 

IV. 

Transcendentalism  in  France — Cousin.  Constant,  Jouffroy, 

etc 60 

V. 

Transcendentalism  in  England  — Coleridge,  Carlyle, 


Wordsworth ! 76 

VI. 

Transcendentalism  in  New  England ifyj 


VII. 


142 


Practical  Tendencies. 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


VIII. 

PAGE 

Religious  Tendencies 185 

IX.  , 

The  Seer — Emerson 21S 

X. 

The  Mystic — Alcott 249 

XI. 

The  Critic — Margaret  Fuller 2S4 

XII. 

The  Preacher — Theodore  Parker 302 

XIII. 

The  Man  oe  Letters— George  Ripley 322 

XIV. 

Minor  Prophets 335 

XV. 

Literature 357 


PREFACE. 


WHILE  we  are  gathering  up  for  exhibition  before  other 
nations,  the  results  of  a century  of  American  life,  with 
a purpose  to  show  the  issues  thus  far  of  our  experiment 
in  free  institutions,  it  is  fitting  that  some  report  should 
be  made  of  the  influences  that  have  shaped  the  national 
mind,  and  determined  in  any  important  degree  or  re- 
spect its  intellectual  and  moral  character.  A well- 
considered  account  of  these  influences  would  be  of  very 
great  value  to  the  student  of  history,  the  statesman  and 
philosopher,  not  merely  as  throwing  light  on  our  own 
social  problem,  but  as  illustrating  the  general  law  of 
human  progress.  This  book  is  offered  as  a modest  con- 
tribution to  that  knowledge. 

Transcendentalism,  as  it  is  called,  the  transcendental 
movement,  was  an  important  factor  in  American  life. 
Though  local  in  activity,  limited  in  scope,  brief  in  dura- 
tion, engaging  but  a comparatively  small  number  of  in- 
dividuals, and  passing  over  the  upper  regions  of  the 
mind,  it  left  a broad  and  deep  trace  on  ideas  and  insti- 
tutions. It  affected  thinkers,  swayed  politicians,  guided 
moralists,  inspired  philanthropists,  created  reformers. 
The  moral  enthusiasm  of  the  last  generation,  which 


VI 


PREFACE. 


broke  out  with  such  prodigious  power  in  the  holy  war 
against  slavery ; which  uttered  such  earnest  protests 
against  capital  punishment,  and  the  wrongs  inflicted  on 
women  ; which  made  such  passionate  pleading  in  behalf 
of  the  weak,  the  injured,  the  disfranchised  of  every  race 
and  condition  ; which  exalted  humanity  above  institu- 
tions, and  proclaimed  the  inherent  worth  of  man, — owed, 
in  larger  measure  than  is  suspected,  its  glow  and  force 
to  the  Transcendentalists.  ^This,  as  a fact  of  history, 
must  be  admitted,  as  well  by  those  who  judge  the 
movement  unfavorably,  as  by  its  friends.  In  the  view 
of  history,  which  is  concerned  with  causes  and  effects  in 
their  large  human  relations,  individual  opinions  on  them 
are  of  small  moment.  It  was  once  the  fashion — and  still 
in  some  quarters  it  is  the  fashion — to  laugh  at  Tran- 
scendentalism as  an  incomprehensible  folly,  and  to  call 
Transcendentalists  visionaries.  To  admit  that  they  were, 
would  not  alter  the  fact  that  they  exerted  an  influence 
on  their  generation.  It  is  usual  with  critics  of  a cold, 
unsympathetic,  cynical  cast,  to  speak  of  Transcendental - 
ism  as  a form  of  sentimentality,  and  of  Transcendentalists 
as  sentimentalists  ; to  decry  enthusiasm,  and  deprecate 
the  mischievous  effects  of  feeling  on  the  discussion  of 
social  questions.  But  their  disapproval,  however  just 
and  wholesome,  does  not  abolish  the  trace  which  moral 
enthusiasm,  under  whatever  name  these  judges  may 
please  to  put  upon  it,  has  left  on  the  social  life  of  the 
people.  Whether  the  impression  was  for  evil  or  for 
good,  it  is  there,  and  equally  significant  for  warning  or 
for  commendation. 


PREFACE. 


iiv 

As  a form  of  mental  philosophy  Transcendentalism 
may  have  had  its  day  ; at  any  rate,  it  is  no  longer  in 
the  ascendant,  and  at  present  is  manifestly  on  the  de- 
cline, being  suppressed  by  the  philosophy  of  experience, 
which,  under  different  names,  is  taking  possession  of 
the  speculative  world.  But  neither  has  this  considera- 
tion weight  in  deciding  its  value  as  an  element  in  pro- 
gress. An  unsound  system  requires  as  accurate  a 
description  and  as  severe  an  analysis  as  a sound  one  ; 
and  no  speculative  prejudice  should  interfere  with  the 
most  candid  acknowledgment  of  its  importance.  Error 
is  not  disarmed  or  disenchanted  by  caricature  or 
neglect. 

To  those  who  may  object  that  the  writer  has  too 
freely  indulged  his  own  prejudices  in  favor  of  Transcen- 
dentalism and  the  Transcendentalists,  and  has  trans- 
gressed his  own  rules  by  writing  a eulogy  instead  of  a 
history,  he  would  reply,  that  in  his  belief  every  system 
is  best  understood  when  studied  sympathetically,  and  is 
most  fairly  interpreted  from  the  inside.  We  can  know 
its  purposes  only  from  its  friends,  and  we  can  do  justice 
to  its  friends  only  when  we  accept  their  own  account  of 
their  beliefs  and  aims.  Renan  somewhere  says,  that  in 
order  to  judge  a faith  one  must  have  confessed  it  and 
abandoned  it.  Such  a rule  supposes  sincerity  in  the 
confession  and  honesty  in  the  withdrawal  ; but  with  this 
qualification  its  reasonableness  is  easily  admitted.  If 
the  result  of  such  a verdict  prove  more  favorable  than 
the  polemic  would  give,  and  more  cordial  than  the  critic 
approves,  it  may  not  be  the  less  just  for  that. 


PREFACE. 


viii 

The  writer  was  once  a pure  Transcendentalist,  a warm 
sympathizer  with  transcendental  aspirations,  and  an  ar- 
dent admirer  of  transcendental  teachers.  His  ardor 
may  have  cooled  ; his  faith  may  have  been  modified  ; 
later  studies  and  meditations  may  have  commended  to 
him  other  ideas  and  methods  ; but  he  still  retains  enough 
of  his  former  faith  to  enable  him  to  do  it  justice.  His 
purpose  has  been  to  write  a history  ; not  a critical  or 
philosophical  history,  but  simply  a history;  to  present 
his  subject  with  the  smallest  possible  admixture  of  dis- 
cussion, either  in  defence'  or  opposition.  He  has, 
therefore,  avoided  the  metaphysics  of  his  theme,  by 
presenting  cardinal  ideas  in  the  simplest  statement  he 
could  command,  and  omitting  the  details  that  would 
only  cumber  a narrative.  Sufficient  references  are  given 
for  the  direction  of  students  who  may  wish  to  become 
more  intimately  acquainted  with  the  transcendental 
philosophy,  but  an  exhaustive  survey  of  the  speculative 
field  has  not  been  attempted.  This  book  has  but  one 
purpose — -to  define  the  fundamental  ideas  of  the  philos- 
ophy, to  trace  them  to  their  historical  and  speculative 
sources,  and  to  show  whither  they  tended.  If  he  has 
done  this  inadequately,  it  will  be  disclosed  ; he  has  done 
it  honestly,  and  as  well  as  he  could.  In  a little  while  it 
will  be  difficult  to  do  it  at  all  ; for  the  disciples,  one  by 
one,  are  falling  asleep  ; the  literary  remains  are  becom- 
ing few  and  scarce  ; the  materials  are  disappearing  be- 
neath the  rapid  accumulations  of  thought ; the  new  order 
is  thrusting  the  old  into  the  background  ; and  in  the 
■course  of  a few  years,  even  they  who  can  tell  the  story 


PREFACE. 


IX 


feelingly  will  have  passed  away.  The  author,  whose 
task  was  gladly  accepted,  though  not  voluntarily  chosen, 
ventures  to  hope,  that  if  it  has  not  been  done  as  well 
as  another  might  have  done  it,  it  has  not  been  done  so 
ill  that  others  will  wish  he  had  left  it  untouched. 

O.  B.  F. 

New  York,  April  12,  1876. 


'i 

a 


I 


TRANSCENDENTALISM, 


i. 

BEGINNINGS  IN  GERMANY. 

To  make  intelligible  the  Transcendental  Philosophy 
of  the  last  generation  in  New  England  it  is  not  necessary 
to  go  far  back  into  the  history  of  thought.  Ancient 
'idealism,  whether  Eastern  or  Western,  may  be  left  un- 
disturbed. Platonism  and  neo-Platonism  may  be  excused 
from  further  tortures  on  the  witness  stand.  The  spec- 
ulations of  the  mystics,  Romanist  or  Protestant,  need 
not  be  re-examined.  The  idealism  of  Gale,  More,  Por- 
dage,  of  Cudworth  and  the  later  Berkeley,  in  England, 
do  not  immediately  concern  us.  We  need  not  even 
submit  John  Locke  to  fresh  cross-examination,  or  de- 
scribe the  effect  of  his  writings  on  the  thinkers  who 
came  after  him. 

The  Transcendental  Philosophy,  so-called,  had  a dis- 
tinct origin  in  Immanuel  Kant,  whose  “ Critique  of 
Pure  Reason”  was  published  in  1781,  and  opened  a 
new  epoch  in  metaphysical  thought.  By  this  it  is  not 
meant  that  Kant  started  a new  movement  of  the  human 


2 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


mind,  proposed  original  problems,  or  projected  issues 
never  contemplated  before.  The  questions  he  discussed 
had  been  discussed  from  the  earliest  times,  and  with  an 
acumen  that  had  searched  out  the  nicest  points  of  defini- 
tion. In  the  controversy  between  the  Nominalists,  who 
maintained  that  the  terms  used  to  describe  abstract  and 
universal  ideas  were  mere  names,  designating  no  real 
objects  and  corresponding  to  no  actually  existing  things, 
and  the  Realists,  who  contended  that  such  terms  were 
not  figments  of  language,  but  described  realities,  solid 
though  incorporeal,  actual  existences,  not  to  be  con- 
founded with  visible  and  transient  things,  but  the  essen- 
tial types  of  such, — the  scholastics  of  either  school  dis- 
cussed after  their  manner,  with  astonishing  fulness  and 
subtlety,  the  matters  which  later  metaphysicians  intro- 
duced. The  modern  Germans  revived  in  substance  the 
doctrines  held  by  the  Realists.  But  the  scholastic  method, 
which  was  borrowed  from  the  Greeks,  lost  its  authority 
when  the  power  of  Aristotle’s  name  declined,  and  the 
scholastic  discussions,  turning,  as  they  signally  did,  on 
theological  questions,  ceased  to  be  interesting  when  the 
spell  of  theology  was  broken. 

Between  the  schools  of  Sensationalism  and  Idealism, 
since  John  Locke,  the  same  matters  were  in  debate. 
The  Scotch  as  well  as  the  English  metaphysicians  dealt 
with  them  according  to  their  genius  and  ability.  The 
different  writers,  as  they  succeeded  one  another,  took 
up  the  points  that  were  presented  in  their  day,  exer- 
cised on  them  such  ingenuity  as  they  possessed,  and  in 
good  faith  made  their  several  contributions  to  the  general 


GERMANY. 


3 


fund  of  thought,  but  neglected  to  sink  their  shafts  deep 
enough  below  the  surface  to  strike  new  springs  of  water. 

Locke’s  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  was  an 
event  that  made  an  epoch  in  philosophy,  because  its 
author,  not  satisfied  to  take  up  questions  where  his 
predecessors  had  left  them,  undertook  an  independent 
examination  of  the  Human  Mind,  in  order  to  ascertain 
what  were  the  conditions  of  its  knowledge.  The  ability 
with  which  this  attempt  was  made,  the  entire  sincerity 
of  it,  the  patient  watch  of  the  mental  operations,  the 
sagacity  that  followed  the  trail  of  lurking  thoughts,  sur- 
prised them  in  their  retreats,  and  extracted  from  them 
the  secret  of  their  combinations,  fairly  earned  for  him  the 
title  of  “ Father  of  Modern  Psychology.”  The  intellect- 
ual history  of  the  race  shows  very  few  such  examples  of 
single-minded  fidelity  combined  with  rugged  vigor  and 
unaffected  simplicity.  With  what  honest  directness  he 
announced  his  purpose  ! His  book  grew  out  of  a warm 
discussion  among  friends,  the  fruitlessness  whereof 
convinced  him  that  both  sides  had  taken  a wrong 
course  ; that  before  men  set  themselves  upon  inquiries 
into  the  deep  matters  of  philosophy  “it  was  necessary 
to  examine  our  own  abilities,  and  see  what  objects  our 
understandings  were  or  were  not  fitted  to  deal  with.”  To 
do  this  was  his  purpose. 

“ First,”  he  said,  “ I shall  inquire  into  the  original  of 
those  ideas,  notions,  or  whatever  else  you  please  to  call 
them,  which  a man  observes  and  is  conscious  to  himself 
he  has  in  his  mind  ; and  the  ways  whereby  the  under- 
standing comes  to  be  furnished  with  them. 


4 


TRANS  CENDENTALISM. 


“ Secondly,  I shall  endeavor  to  show  what  knowledge 
the  understanding  hath  by  those  ideas,  and  the  certain- 
ty, evidence  and  extent  of  it. 

“Thirdly,  I shall  make- some  inquiry  into  the  nature 
and  grounds  of  faith  or  opinion  ; whereby  I mean  that 
assent  which  we  give  to  any  proposition  as  true,  of 
whose  truth  we  have  yet  no  certain  knowledge  ; and  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  examine  the  reasons  and  degrees 
of  assent.” 

Locke  did  his  work  well : how  well  is  attested  by  the 
excitement  it  caused  in  the  intellectual  world,  the  im- 
pulse it  gave  to  speculation  in  England  and  on  the  con- 
tinent of  Europe,  the  controversies  over  the  author’s 
opinions,  the  struggle  of  opposing  schools  to  secure  for 
their  doctrines  his  authority,  the  appreciation  on  one 
side,  the  depreciation  on  the  other,  the  disposition  of  one 
period  to  exalt  him  as  the  greatest  discoverer  in  the  phi- 
losophic realm,  and  the  disposition  of  another  period  to 
challenge  his  title  to  the  name  of  philosopher.  The  “ Es- 
say ” is  a small  book,  written  in  a homely,  business-like 
style,  without  affectation  of  depth  or  pretence  of  learning, 
but  it  is  charged  with  original  mental  force.  Exhaus- 
tive it  was  not  ; exhaustive  it  could  not  have  been.  The 
England  of  the  seventeenth  century  was  not  favorable 
to  original  researches  in  that  field.  The  “Essay”  was 
planned  in  1670,  completed  after  considerable  interrup- 
tions in  1687,  and  published  in  1690.  To  one  acquainted 
with  the  phases  through  which  England  was  passing  -at 
that  period,  these  dates  will  tell  of  untoward  influences 
that  might  account  for  graver  deficiencies  than  char- 


GERMANY. 


5 


acterize  Locke’s  work.  The  scholastic  philosophy,  from 
which  Locke  broke  contemptuously  away  at  Oxford,  seems 
to  have  left  no  mark  on  his  mind  ; but  the  contemptuous 
revulsion,  and  the  naked  self-reliance  in  which  the  saga- 
cious but  not  generously  cultivated  man  found  refuge, 
probably  roughened  his  speculative  sensibility,  and  made 
it  impossible  for  him  to  handle  with  perfect  nicety  the 
more  delicate  facts  of  his  science.  It  can  hardly  be 
claimed  that  Locke  was  endowed  by  nature  with  philo- 
sophical genius  of  the  highest  order.  While  at  Oxford 
he  abandoned  philosophy,  in  disgust,  for  medicine,  and 
distinguished  himself  there  by  judgment  and  penetra- 
tion. Subsequently  his  attention  was  turned  to  politics, 
another  pursuit  even  less  congenial  with  introspective 
genius.  These  may  not  be  the  reasons  for  the  “ incom- 
pleteness ” which  so  glowing  a eulogist  as  Mr.  George 
H.  Lewes  admits  in  the  “Essay;”  but  at  all  events, 
whatever  the  reasons  may  have  been,  the  incompleteness 
was  felt ; the  debate  over  the  author’s  meaning  was  an 
open  proclamation  of  it ; at  the  close  of  a century  it  was 
apparent  to  at  least  one  mind  that  Locke’s  attempt  must 
be  repeated,  and  his  work  done  over  again  more  carefully. 
The  man  who  came  to  this  conclusion  and  was  moved 
to  act  on  it  was  IMMANUEL  Kant,  born  at  Kdnigsberg, 
in  Prussia,  April  22d,  1724;  died  there  February  12th, 
1804.  His  was  a life  rigorously  devoted  to  philosophy. 
He  inherited  from  his  parents  a love  of  truth,  a respect 
for  moral  worth,  and  an  intellectual  integrity  which  his 
precursor  in  England  did  not  more  than  match.  He 
was  a master  in  the  sciences,  a proficient  in  languages, 


6 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 7 


a man  cultivated  in  literature,  a s-evere  student,  of  the 
German  type,  whose  long,  calm,  peaceful  years  were 
spent  in  meditation,  lecturing  and  writing.  He  was  dis- 
tinguished as  a mathematician  before  he  was  heard  of  as  a 
philosopher,  having  predicted  the  existence  of  the  planet 
Uranus  before  Herschel  discovered  it.  He  was  forty- 
five  years  old  when  these  trained  powers  were  brought 
to  bear  on  the  study  of  the  human  mind  : he  was  sixty- 
seven  when  the  meditation  was  ended.  His  book,  the 
“ Critique  of  Pure  Reason,”  was  the  result  of  twelve 
years  of  such  thinking  as  his  genius  and  training  made 
him  capable  of.  In  what  spirit  and  with  what  hope  he 
went  about  his  task,  appears  in  the  Introduction  and  the 
Prefaces  to  the  editions  of  1781  and  1787.  In  these  he 
frankly  opens  his  mind  in  regard  to  the  condition  of  phi- 
losophical speculation.  That  condition  he  describes  as 
one  of  saddest  indifference.  The  throne  of  Metaphys- 
ics was  vacant,  and  its  former  occupant  was  a wanderer, 
cast  off  by  the  meanest  of  his  subjects.  Locke  had 
started  a flight  of  hypotheses,  which  had  frittered  his 
force  away  and  made  his  effort  barren  of  definite  result. 
Theories  had  been  suggested  and  abandoned  ; the  straw 
had  been  thrashed  till  only  dust  remained;  and  unless  a 
new  method  could  be  hit  on,  the  days  of  mental  philos- 
ophy might  be  considered  as  numbered.  The  physical 
sciences  would  take  advantage  of  the  time,  enter  the  de- 
serted house,  secure  possession,  and  set  up  their  idols  in 
the  ancient  shrine. 

These  sciences,  it  was  admitted,  command  and  deserve 
unqualified  respect.  To  discover  the  secret  of  their  sue- 


GERMANY. 


7 


cess  Kant  passed  in  review  their  different  systems,  ex- 
amined them  in  respect  to  their  principles  and  conditions 
of  progress,  with  a purpose  to  know  what,  if  any, 
essential  difference  there  might  be  between  them  and  the 
metaphysics  which  had  from  of  old  claimed  to  be,  and 
had  the  name  of  being,  a science.  Logic,  mathematics,* 
physics,  are  sciences  : by  virtue  of  what  inherent  peculi- 
arity do  they  claim  superior  right  to  that  high  appella- 
tion ? Intellectual  philosophy  has  always  been  given 
over  to  conflicting  parties.  Its  history  is  a history  of 
controversies,  and  of  controversies  that  resulted  in  no 
triumph  for  either  side,  established  no  doctrine,  and  re- 
claimed no  portion  of  truth.  Material  philosophy  has 
made  steady  advances  from  the  beginning  ; its  disputes 
have  ended  in  demonstrations,  its  contests  have  resulted 
in  the  establishment  of  legitimate  authority  : if  its  prog- 
ress has  been  slow  it  has  been  continuous  ; it  has  never 
receded  ; and  its  variations  from  a straight  course  are 
insignificant  when  surveyed  from  a position  that  com- 
mands its  whole  career. 

Since  Aristotle,  logic  has,  without  serious  impedi- 
ment or  check,  matured  its  rules  and  methods.  Holding 
the  same  cardinal  positions  as  in  Aristotle’s  time,  it  has 
simply  made  them  stronger,  the  rules  being  but  inter- 
pretations of  rational  principles,  the  methods  following 
precisely  the  indications  of  the  human  mind,  which  from 
the  nature  of  the  case  remain  always  the  same. 

The  mathematics,  again,  have  had  their  periods  of 
uncertainty  and  conjecture.  But  since  the  discovery  of 
the  essential  properties  of  the  triangle,  the  career  has 


8 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


been  uninterrupted.  The  persistent  study  of  constant 
properties,  which  were  not  natural  data,  but  mental  con- 
ceptions formed  by  the  elimination  of  variable  quantities, 
led  to  results  which  had  not  to  be  abandoned. 

It  was  the  same  with  physics.  The  physics  of  the  an- 
cients were  heaps  of  conjecture.  The  predecessors  of 
Galileo  abandoned  conjecture,  put  themselves  face  to 
face  with  Nature,  observed  and  classified  phenomena,  but 
possessed  no  method  by  which  their  labors  could  be  made 
productive  of  cumulative  results.  But  after  Galileo  had 
experimented  with  balls  of  a given  weight  on  an  inclined 
plane,  and  Torricelli  had  pushed  upward  a weight  equal 
to  a known  column  of  water,  and  Stahl  had  reduced  met- 
als to  lime  and  transformed  lime  back  again  into  metal, 
by  the  addition  and  subtraction  of  certain  parts,  the 
naturalists  carried  a torch  that  illumined  their  path. 
They  perceived  that  reason  lays  her  own  plans,  takes 
the  initiative  with  her  own  principles,  and  must  compel 
nature  to  answer  her  questions,  instead  of  obsequiously 
following  its  leading-string.  It  was  discovered  that 
scattered  observations,  made  in  obedience  to  no  fixed 
plan,  and  associated  with  no  necessary  law,  could  not  be 
brought  into  systematic  form.  The  discovery  of  such  a 
law  is  a necessity  of  reason.  Reason  presents  herself  be- 
fore nature,  holding  in  one  hand  the  principles  which 
alone  have  power  to  bring  into  order  and  harmony  the 
phenomena  of  nature;  in  the  other  hand  grasping  the' 
results  of  experiment  conducted  according  to  those  prin- 
ciples. Reason  demands  knowledge  of  nature,  not  as  a 
docile  pupil  who  receives  implicitly  the  master’s  word, 


GERMANY. 


9 


but  as  a judge  who  constrains  witnesses  to  reply  to  ques- 
tions put  to  them  by  the  court.  To  this  attitude  are  due 
the  happy  achievements  in  physics  ; reason  seeking — - 
not  fancying — in  nature,  by  conformity  with  her  own 
rules,  what  nature  ought  to  teach,  and  what  of  herself  she 
could  not  learn.  Thus  physics  became  established  upon 
the  solid  basis  of  a science,  after  centuries  of  error  and 
groping. 

Wherefore  now,  asks  Kant,  are  metaphysics  so  far  be- 
hind logic,  mathematics,  and  physics  ? Wherefore  these 
heaps  of  conjecture,  these  vain  attempts  at  solution  ? 
Wherefore  these  futile  lives  of  great  men,  these  abortive 
flights  of  genius  ? The  study  of  the  mind  is  not  an  arbi- 
trary pursuit,  suggested  by  vanity  and  conducted  by 
caprice,  to  be  taken  up  idly  and  relinquished  at  a mo- 
ment’s notice.  The  human  mind  cannot  acquiesce  in  a 
judgment  that  condemns  it  to  barrenness  and  indifference 
in  respect  to  such  questions  as  God,  the  Soul,  the 
World,  the  Life  to  Come  ; it  is  perpetually  revising  and 
reversing  the  decrees  pronounced  against  itself.  It 
must  accept  the  conditions  of  its  being.  _ •» 

From  a review  of  the  progress  of  the  sciences  it 
appeared  to  Kant  that  their  advance  was  owing  to  the 
elimination  of  the  variable  elements,  and  the  steady  con- 
templation of  the  elements  that  are  invariable  and  con- 
stant, the  most  essential  of  which  is  the  contribution 
made  by  the  human  mind.  The  laws  that  are  the  basis 
of  logic,  of  the  mathematics,  and  of  the  higher  physics, 
and  that  give  certitude  to  these  sciences,  are  simply  the 
laws  of  the  human  mind  itself.  Strictly  speaking,  then, 


IO 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


/it  is  in  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  irrespective 
of  outward  objects  and  the  application  of  principles  to 
them,  that  we  must  seek  the  principle  of  certitude.. 
Thus  far  in  the  history  of  philosophy  the  human  mind 
had  not  been  fairly  considered.  Thinkers  had  concerned 
themselves  with  the  objects  of  knowledge,  not  with  the 
mind  that  knows.  They  had  collected  facts  ; they  had 
constructed  systems  ; they  had  traced  connections  ; they 
had  drawn  conclusions.  Few  had  defined  the  relations 
of  knowledge  to  the  human  min'd.  Yet  to  do  that 
seemed  the  only  way  to  arrive  at  certainty,  and  raise 
metaphysics  to  the  established  rank  of  physics,  mathe- 
matics, and  logic. 

Struck  with  this  idea,  Kant  undertook  to  transfer  con- 
templation from  the  objects  that  engaged  the  mind  to  the 
mind  itself,  and  thus  start  philosophy  on  a new  career. 
He  meditated  a fresh  departure,  and  proposed  to  effect 
in  metaphysics  a revolution  parallel  with  that  which 
Copernicus  effected  in  astronomy.  As  Copernicus,  find- 
ing it  impossible  to  explain  the  movements  of  the  heav- 
enly bodies  on  the  supposition  of  their  turning  round 
the  globe  as  a centre,  bethought  him  to  posit  the  sun 
as  a centre,  round  which  the  earth  with  other  heavenly 
bodies  turned — so  Kant,  perceiving  the  confusion  that  re- 
sulted from  making  man  a satellite  of  the  external  world,  » 
resolved  to  try  the  effect  of  placing  him  in  the  position 
of  central  sway..  Whether  this  pretension  was  justifiable 
or  not,  is  not  a subject  of  inquiry  here.  They  may  be 
right  who  sneer  at  it  as  a fallacy  ; they  may  be  right  who 
ridicule  it  as  a conceit.  We  are  historians,  not  critics. 


GERMANY. 


1 1 


That  Kant’s  position  was  as  has  been  described,  admits 
of  no  question.  That  he  built  great  expectations  on  his 
method  is  certain.  He  anticipated  from  it  the  overthrow 
of  hypotheses  which,  having  no  legitimate  title  to  author- 
ity, erected  themselves  to  the  dignity  of  dogmas,  and 
assumed  supreme  rank  in  the  realm  of  speculation.  That 
it  would  be  the  destruction  of  famous  demonstrations,  and 
would  reduce  renowned  arguments  to  naught,  might  be 
foreseen  ; but  in  the  place  of  pretended  demonstrations, 
he  was  confident  that  solid  ones  would  be  established,  and 
arguments  that  were  merely  specious  would  give  room 
to  arguments  that  were  profound.  Schools  might  be 
broken  up,  but  the  interests  of  the  human  race  would  be 
secured.  At  first  it  might  appear  as  if  cardinal  beliefs  of 
mankind  must  be  menaced  with  extinction  as  the  ancient 
supports  one  after  another  fell  ; but  as  soon  as  the  new 
foundations  were  disclosed  it  was  anticipated  that  faith 
would  revive,  and  the  great  convictions  would  stand 
more  securely  than  ever.  Whatever  of  truth  the  older 
systems  had  contained  would  receive  fresh  and  trust- 
worthy authentication  ; the  false  would  be  expelled  ; and 
a method  laid  down  by  which  new  discoveries  in  the 
intellectual  sphere  might  be  confidently  predicted. 

In  this  spirit  the  author  of  the  transcendental  philoso- 
phy began,  continued,  and  finished  his  work. 

The  word  “ transcendental  ” was  not  new  in  philoso- 
phy. The  Schoolmen  had  used  it  to  describe  whatever 
could  not  be  comprehended  in  or  classified  under  the  so- 
called  categories  of  Aristotle,  who  was  the  recognized 
prince  of  the  intellectual  world.  These  categories  were 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


12 

ten  in  number  : Quantity,  Quality,  Relation,  Action,  Pas- 
sion, The  Where,  The  When,  Position  in  Space,  Posses- 
sion, Substance.  Four  things  were  regarded  by  the 
Schoolmen  as  transcending  these  mental  forms — namely, 
Being,  Truth,  Unity,  Goodness.  It  is  hardly  necessary 
to  say  that  the  Transcendentalism  of  modern  times  owed 
very  little  to  these  distinctions,  if  it  owed  anything  to 
them.  Its  origin  was  not  from  thence  ; its  method  was 
so  dissimilar  as  to  seem  sharply  opposed. 

The  word  “transcendental”  has  become  domesticated 
in  science.  Transcendental  anatomy  inquires  into  the 
idea,  the  original  conception  or  model  on  which  the 
organic  frame  of  animals  is  built,  the  unity  of  plan  dis- 
cernible throughout  multitudinous  genera  and  orders. 
Transcendental  curves  are  curves  that  cannot  be  defined 
by  algebraic  equations.  Transcendental  equations  ex- 
press relations  between  transcendental  qualities.  Trans- 
cendental physiology  treats  of  the  laws  of  development 
and  function,  which  apply,  not  to  particular  kinds  or 
classes  of  organisms,  but  to  all  organisms.  In  the  ter- 
minology of  Kant  the  term  “ transcendent  ” was  em- 
ployed to  designate  qualities  that  lie  outside  of  all 
“ experience,”  that  cannot  be  brought  within  the  recog- 
nized formularies  of  thought,  cannot  be  reached  either 
by  observation  or  reflection,  or  explained  as  the  conse- 
quences of  any  discoverable  antecedents.  The  term 
“transcendental”  designated  the  fundamental  concep- 
tions, the  universal  and  necessary  judgments,  which 
transcend  the  sphere  of  experience,  and  at  the  same 
time  impose  the  conditions  that  make  experience  trib- 


GERMANY. 


13 


utary  to  knowledge.  The  transcendental  philosophy 
is  the  philosophy  that  is  built  on  these  necessary  and 
universal  principles,  these  primary  laws  of  mind,  which 
are  the  ground  of  absolute  truth.  The  supremacy 
given  to  these  and  the  authority  given  to  the  truths 
that  result  from  them  entitle  the  philosophy  to  its 
name.  “ I term  all  cognition  transcendental  which 
concerns  itself  not  so  much  with  objects,  as  with  our 
mode  of  cognition  of  objects  so  far  as  this  may  be  possi- 
ble a priori.  A system  of  such  conceptions  would  be 
called  Transcendental  Philosophy.” 


II. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  GERMANY. 

KANT. 

There  is  no  call  to  discuss  here  the  system  of  Kant, 
or  even  to  describe  it  in  detail.  The  means  of  studying 
the  system  are  within  easy  reach  of  English  readers.* 
Our  concern  is  to  know  the  method  which  Kant  em- 
ployed, and  the  use  he  made  of  it,  the  ground  he  took 
and  the  positions  he  held,  so  far  as  this  can  be  indi- 
cated within  reasonable  compass,  and  without  becoming 
involved  in  the  complexity  of  the  author’s  metaphysics. 
The  Critique  of  Pure  Reason  is  precisely  what  the  title 
imports — a searching  analysis  of  the  human  mind  ; an 
attempt  to  get  at  the  ultimate  grounds  of  thought, 
to  discover  the  a priori  principles.  “ Reason  is  the 
faculty  which  furnishes  the  principles  of  cognition  a 
priori.  Therefore  pure  reason  is  that  which  contains  the 
principles  of  knowing  something,  absolutely  a priori. 
An  organon  of  pure  reason  would  be  a summaiyof 


* See  Kant’s  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  London,  1S38  ; Morell’s  History 
of  Modern  Philosophy ; Chalybaus’  Historical  Development  of  Specu- 
lative Philosophy  from  Kant  to  Hegel ; Lewes’  Biographical  History  of 
Philosophy  ; Cousin’s  Legons,  QEuvres,  ierc  serie,  vol.  5,  give  a clear  ac- 
count of  Kant’s  philosophy. 


GERMANY. 


15 


these  principles,  according  to  which  all  pure  cognition  a 
priori  can  be  obtained,  and  really  accomplished.  The 
extended  application  of  such  an  organon  would  furnish 
a system  of  pure  reason.” 

The  problem  of  modern  philosophy  may  be  thus 
stated  : Have  we  or  have  we  not  ideas  that  are  true 
of  necessity,  and  absolutely  ? Are  there  ideas  that  can 
fairly  be  pronounced  independent  in  their  origin  of  expe- 
rience, and  out  of  the  reach  of  experience  by  their 
nature  ? One  party  contended  that  all  knowledge 
was  derived  from  experience  ; that  there  was  noth- 
ing in  the  intellect  that  had  not  previously  been 
in  the  senses  : the  opposite  party  maintained  that  a 
portion,  at  least,  of  knowledge  came  from  the  mind 
itself ; that  the  intellect  contained  powers  of  its  own, 
and  impressed  its  forms  upon  the  phenomena  of  sense. 
The  extreme  doctrine  of  the  two  schools  was  repre- 
sented, on  the  one  side  by  the  materialists,  on  the  other 
by  the  mystics.  Between  these  two  extremes  various 
degrees  of  compromise  were  offered. 

The  doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  ascribed  to  Descartes, — 
though  he  abandoned  it  as  untenable  in  its  crude  form, 
— affirmed  that  certain  cardinal  ideas,  such  as  causality, 
infinity,  substance,  eternity,  wrere  native  to  the  mind, 
born  in  it  as  part  of  its  organic  constitution,  wholly 
independent  therefore  of  experience.  Locke  claimed 
for  the  mind  merely  a power  of  reflection  by  which  it 
was  able  to  modify  and  alter  the  material  given  by  the 
senses,  thus  exploding  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas. 

Leibnitz,  anxious  to  escape  the  danger  into  which 


i6 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Descartes  fell,  of  making  the  outward  world  purely 
phenomenal,  an  expression  of  unalterable  thought,  and 
also  to  escape  the  consequences  of  Locke’s  position 
that  all  knowledge  originates  in  the  senses,  suggested 
that  the  understanding  itself  was  independent  of  expe- 
rience, that  though  it  did  not  contain  ideas  like  a vessel, 
it  was  entitled  to  be  called  a power  of  forming  ideas, 
which  have,  as  in  mathematics,  a character  of  necessary 
truths.  These  necessary  laws  of  the  understanding, 
which  experience  had  no  hand  in  creating,  are,  accord- 
ing to  Leibnitz,  the  primordial  conditions  of  human 
knowledge. 

Hume,  taking  Locke  at  his  word,  that  all  knowledge 
came  from  experience,  that  the  mind  was  a passive 
recipient  of  impressions,  with  no  independent  intellect- 
ual substratum,  reasoned  that  mind  was  a fiction  ; and 
taking  Berkeley  at  his  word  that  the  outward  world  had 
no  material  existence,  and  no  apparent  existence  except 
to  our  perception,  he  reasoned  that  matter  was  a fiction. 
Mind  and  matter  both  being  fictions,  there  could  be  no 
certain  knowledge  ; truth  was  unattainable  ; ideas  were 
illusions.  The  opposing  schools  of  philosophers  anni- 
hilated each  other,  and  the  result  was  scepticism. 

Hume  started  Kant  on  his  long  and  severe  course  of 
investigation,  the  result  of  which  was,  that  neither  of  the 
antagonist  parties  could  sustain  itself : that  Descartes 
was  wrong  in  asserting  that  such  abstract  ideas  as  causal- 
ity, infinity,  substance,  time,  space,  are  independent  of 
experience,  since  without  experience  they  would  not 
exist,  and  experience  takes  from  them  form  only ; that 


GERMANY. 


17 


Locke  was  wrong  in  asserting  that  all  ideas  originated 
in  experience,  and  were  resolvable  into  it,  since  the 
ideas  of  causality,  substance,  infinity  and  others  cer- 
tainly did  not  so  originate,  and  were  not  thus  resolvable. 
It  is  idle  to  dispute  whether  knowledge  comes  from  one 
.source  or  another — from  without*  through  sensation,  or 
from  within  through  intuition  ; the  everlasting  battle 
between  idealism  and  realism,  spiritualism  and  material- 
ism, can  never  result  in  victory  to  either  side.  Mind 
and  universe,  intelligence  and  experience,  suppose  each 
other;  neither  alone  is  operative  to  produce  knowledge. 
Knowledge  is  the  product  of  their  mutual  co-operation. 
Mind  does  not  originate  ideas,  neither  does  sensation 
impart  them.  Object  and  subject,  sterile  by  themselves, 
become  fruitful  by  conjunction.  There  are  not  two 
sources  of  knowledge;  but  one  only,  and  that  one  is 
produced  by  the  union  of  the  two  apparent  opposites. 
Truth  is  the  crystallization,  so  to  speak,  that  results 
from  the  combined  elements. 

Let  us  follow  the  initial  steps  of  Kant’s  analysis. 
Mind  and  Universe — Subject  and  Object — Ego  and  Non- 
ego, stand  opposite  one  another,  front  to  front.  Mind 
is  conscious  only  of  its  own  operations  : the  subject 
alone  considers.  The  first  fact  noted  is,  that  the  subject 
is  sensitive  to  impressions  made  by  outward  things,  and 
is  receptive  of  them.  Dwelling  on  this  fact,  we  discover 
that  while  the  impressions  are  many  in  number  and  of 
great  variety,  they  all,  whatever  their  character,  fall 
within  certain  inflexible  and  unalterable  conditions — 
those  of  space  and  time — which  must,  therefore,  be  re- 


i8 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


garded  as  pre-established  forms  of  sensibility.  “ Time 
is  no  empirical  conception  which  can  be  deduced  from 
experience.  Time  is  a necessary  representation  which 
lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  intuitions.  Time  is  given 
a priori.  In  it  alone  is  any  reality  of  phenomena  possi- 
ble. These  disappear,  but  it  cannot  be  annihilated.” 
So  of  space.  “ Space  is  an  intuition,  met  with  in  us 
a priori,  antecedent  to  any  perception  of  objects,  a pure, 
not  an  empirical  intuition.”  These  two  forms  of  sensi- 
bility, inherent  and  invariable,  to  which  all  experiences 
are  subject,  are  primeval  facts  of  consciousness.  Kant’s 
argument  on  the  point  whether  or  no  space  and  time 
have  an  existence  apart  from  the  mind,  is  interesting, 
but  need  not  detain  us. 

The  materials  furnished  by  sensibility  are  taken  up  by 
the  understanding,  which  classifies,  interprets,  judges, 
compares,  reduces  to  unity,  eliminates,  converts,  and 
thus  fashions  sensations  into  conceptions,  transmutes  im- 
pressions into  thoughts.  Here  fresh  processes  of  analy- 
sis are  employed  in  classifying  judgments,  and  determin- 
ing their  conditions.  All  judgments,  it  is  found,  must 
conform  to  one  of  four  invariable  conditions.  I.  Quan- 
tity, which  may  be  subdivided  into  unity,  plurality,  and 
totality  : the  one,  the  many,  the  whole.  II.  Quality, 
which  is  divisible  as  reality,  negation,  and  limitation  : 
something,  nothing,  and  the  more  or  less.  III.  Relation, 
which  also  comprises  three  heads  : substance  and  acci- 
dent, cause  and  effect,  reciprocity,  or  action  and  reac- 
tion. IV.  Modality,  which  embraces  the  possible  and 
the  impossible,  the  existent  and  the  non-existent,  the 


I 


GERMANY. 


J9 


necessary  and  the  contingent.  These  categories,  as  they 
were  called,  after  the  terminology  of  Aristotle,  were  sup- 
posed to  exhaust  the  forms  of  conception. 

Having  thus  arrived  at  conceptions,  thoughts,  judg- 
ments, another  faculty  comes  in  to  classify  the  concep- 
tions, link  the  thoughts  together,  reduce  the  judgments 
to  general  laws,  draw  inferences,  fix  conclusions,  proceed 
from  the  particular  to  the  general,  recede  from  the  gen- 
eral to  the  particular,  mount  from  the  conditioned  to  the 
unconditioned,  till  it  arrives  at  ultimate  principles.  This 
faculty  is  reason, — the  supreme  faculty,  above  sensi- 
bility, above  understanding.  Reason  gives  the  final  gen- 
eralization, the  idea  of  a universe  comprehending  the 
infinitude  of  details  presented  by  the  senses,  and  the 
worlds  of  knowledge  shaped  by  the  understanding  ; the 
idea  of  a personality  embracing  the  infinite  complexities 
of  feeling,  and  gathering  under  one  dominion  the  realms 
of  consciousness  ; the  idea  of  a supreme  unity  combin- 
ing in  itself  both  the  other  ideas  ; the  absolute  perfec- 
tion, the  infinite  and  eternal  One,  which  men  describe 
by  the  word  God. 

Here  the  thinker  rested.  His  search  could  be  carried 
no  further  He  had,  as  he  believed,  established  the  in- 
dependent dominion  of  the  mind,  had  mapped  out  its 
confines,  had  surveyed  its  surface  ; he  had  confronted 
the  idealist  with  the  reality  of  an  external  world  ; he  had 
confronted  the  sceptic  with  laws  of  mind  that  were 
independent  of  experience  ; and,  having  done  so  much, 
he  was  satisfied,  and  refused  to  move  an  inch  beyond 
the  ground  he  occupied.  To  those  who  applied  to  him 


20 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


for  a system  of  positive  doctrines,  or  for  ground  on 
which  a system  of  positive  doctrines  could  be  erected, 
lie  declined  to  give  aid.  The  mind,  he  said,  cannot  go 
out  of  itself,  cannot  transgress  its  own  limits.  It  has 
no  faculty  by  which  it  can  perceive  things  as  they  are ; 
no  vision  to  behold  objects  corresponding  to  its  ideas  ; 
no  power  to  bridge  over  the  gulf  between  its  own  con- 
sciousness and  a world  of  realities  existing  apart  from 
it.  Whether  there  be  a spiritual  universe  answering  to 
our  conception,  a Being  justifying  reason’s  idea  of  su- 
preme unity,  a soul  that  can  exist  in  an  eternal,  super- 
sensible world,  are  questions  the  philosopher  declined 
to  discuss.  The  contents  of  his  own  mind  were  revealed 
to  him,  no  more.  Kant  laid  the  foundations,  he  built  no 
structure.  He  would  not  put  one  stone  upon  another  ; 
he  declared  it  to  be  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  put 
one  stone  upon  another.  The  attempts  which  his 
earnest  disciples — Fichte,  for  example — made  to  erect 
a temple  on  his  foundation  he  repudiated.  As  the 
existence  of  an  external  world,  though  a necessary 
postulate,  could  not  be  demonstrated,  but  only  logi- 
cally affirmed  ; so  the  existence  of  a spiritual  world 
of  substantial  entities  corresponding  to  our  concep- 
tions, though  a necessary  inference,  could  only  be 
logically  affirmed,  not  demonstrated.  Our  idea  of 
God  is  no  proof  that  God  exists.  That  there  is  a 
God  may  be  an  irresistible  persuasion,  but  it  can  be 
nothing  more  ; it  cannot  be  knowledge.  Of  the  facts 
of  consciousness,  the  reality  of  the  ideas  in  the  mind, 
we  may  be  certain  ; our  belief  in  them  is  clear  and 


GERMANY. 


21 

solid  ; but  from  belief  in  them  there  is  no  bridge  to 
them . 

Kant  asserted  the  veracity  of  consciousness,  and  de- 
manded an  absolute  acknowledgment  of  that  veracity. 
The  fidelity  of  the  mind  to  itself  was  a first  principle 
with  him.  Having  these  ideas,  of  the  soul,  of  God,  of  a 
moral  law  ; being  certain  that  they  neither  originated  in 
experience,  nor  depended  on  experience  for  their  valid- 
ity ; that  they  transcended  experience  altogether — man 
was  committed  to  an  unswerving  and  uncompromising 
loyalty  to  himself.  His  prime  duty  consisted  in  defer- 
ence to  the  integrity  of  his  own  mind.  The  laws  of  his 
intellectual  and  moral  nature  were  inviolable.  Whether 
there  was  or  was  not  a God  ; whether  there  was  or  was 
not  a substantial  world  of  experience  where  the  idea  of 
rectitude  could  be  realized,  the  dictate  of  duty  justified, 
the  soul's  affirmation  of  good  ratified  by  actual  felicity, — 
rectitude  was  none  the  less  incumbent  on  the  rational 
mind  ; the  law  of  duty  was  none  the  less  imperative  ; 
the  vision  of  good  none  the  less  glorious  and  inspiring. 
Virtue  had  its  principle  in  the  constitution  of  the  mind 
itself.  Every  virtue  had  there  its  seat.  There  was  no 
sweetness  of  purity,  no  heroism  of  faith,  that  had  not  an 
abiding-place  in  this  impregnable  fortress. 

Thus,  while  on  the  speculative  side  Kant  came  out  a 
sceptic  in  regard  to  the  dogmatic  beliefs  of  mankind,  on 
the  practical  side  he  remained  the  fast  friend  of  intel- 
lectual truth  and  moral  sanctity.  Practical  ethics  never 
had  a more  stanch  supporter  than  Immanuel  Kant.  If 
a man  cannot  pass  beyond  the  confines  of  his  own 


22 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


mind,  he  has,  at  all  events,  within  his  own  mind  a 
temple,  a citadel,  a home. 

The  “ Critique  of  Pure  Reason”  made  no  impression 
on  its  first  appearance.  But  no  sooner  was  its  signifi- 
cance apprehended,  than  a storm  of  controversy  be- 
trayed the  fact  that  even  the  friends  of  the  new  teacher 
were  less  content  than  he  was  to  be  shut  up  in  their 
own  minds.  The  calm,  passionless,  imperturbable  man 
smoked  his  pipe  in  the  peace  of  meditation  ; eager 
thinkers,  desirous  of  getting  more  out  of  the  system 
than  its  author  did,  were  impatient  at  his  backwardness, 
and  made  the  intellectual  world  ring  with  their  calls  to 
improve  upon  and  complete  his  task. 

The  publication  of  Kant’s  great  work  did  not  put  an 
end  to  the  wars  of  philosophy.  On  the  contrary,  they 
raged  about  it  more  furiously  than  ever.  As  the  two 
schools  found  in  Locke  fresh  occasion  for  renewing  their 
strife  under  the  cover  of  that  great  name,  so  here  again 
the  latent  elements  of  discord  were  discovered  and 
speedily  brought  to  the  surface.  The  sceptics  seized  on 
the  sceptical  bearings  of  the  new  analysis,  and  proceed- 
ed to  build  their  castle  from  the  materials  it  furnished  ; 
the  idealists  took  advantage  of  the  positions  gained  by 
the  last  champion,  and  pushed  their  lines  forward  in  the 
direction  of  transcendental  conquest.  We  are  not  called 
on  to  follow  the  sceptics,  however  legitimate  their 
course,  and  we  shall  but  indicate  the  progress  made  by 
the  idealists,  giving  their  cardinal  principles,  as  we  have 
done  those  of  their  master. 


GERMANY. 


23 


JACOBI. 

The  first  important  step  in  the  direction  of  pure 
transcendentalism  was  taken  by  Frederick  Henry  Jacobi, 
who  was  born  at  Diisseldorf,  January  25,  1743.  He 
was  a man  well  educated  in  philosophy,  with  a keen 
interest  in  the  study  of  it,  though  not  a philosopher  by 
profession,  or  a systematic  writer  on  metaphysical  sub- 
jects. His  position  was  that  of  a civilian  who  devoted 
the  larger  part  of  his  time  to  the  duties  of  a public  office 
under  the  government.  His  writings  consist  mainly  of 
letters,  treatises  on  special  points  of  metaphysical  inquiry, 
and  articles  in  the  philosophical  journals.  His  official 
position  gave  repute  to  the  productions  of  his  pen,  and 
the  circumstance  of  his  being,  not  an  amateur  precisely, 
but  a devotee  of  philosophy  for  the  love  of  it  and  not  as 
a professional  business,  imparted  to  his  speculation  the 
freshness  of  personal  feeling.  His  ardent  temperament, 
averse  to  scepticism,  and  touched  with  a mystical  enthu- 
siasm, rebelled  against  the  formal  and  deadly  precision 
of  the  analytical  method,  and  sought  a way  out  from  the 
intellectual  bleakness  of  the  Kantean  metaphysics  into 
the  sunshine  and  air  of  a living  spiritual  world.  The 
critics  busied  themselves  with  mining  and  sapping  the 
foundations  of  consciousness  as  laid  by  the  philosopher 
of  Kbnigsberg,  who,  they  complained,  had  been  too  easy 
in  conceding  the  necessity  of  an  outward  world.  Jacobi 
accepted  with  gratitude  the  intellectual  basis  afforded, 
and  proceeded  to  erect  thereupon  his  observatory  for 
studying  the  heavens  Though  not  the  originator  of  the 


4 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


“ Faith  Philosophy,”  as  it  was  called,  he  became  the 
finisher  and  the  best  known  expositor  of  it.  “ Since  the 
time  of  Aristotle,”  he  said,  “ it  has  been  the  effort  of 
philosophical  schools  to  rank  direct  and  immediate 
knowledge  below  mediate  and  indirect  ; to  subordinate 
the  capacity  for  original  perception  to  the  capacity  for 
reflection  on  abstract  ideas  ; to  make  intuition  secondary 
to  understanding,  the  sense  of  essential  things  to  defini- 
tions. Nothing  is  accepted  that  does  not  admit  of  being 
proved  by  formal  and  logical  process,  so  that,  at  last, 
the  result  is  looked  for  there,  and  there  only.  The 
validity  of  intuition  is  disallowed.” 

Jacobi’s  polemics  were  directed  therefore  against  the 
systems  of  Spinoza,  Leibnitz,  Wolf — in  a word  against  all 
systems  that  led  to  scepticism  and  dogmatism  ; and  his 
positive  efforts  were  employed  in  constructing  a system 
of  Faith.  His  key-word  was  “ Faith,”  by  which  he 
meant  intuition,  the  power  of  gazing  immediately  on 
essential  truth  ; an  intellectual  faculty  which  he  finally 
ailed  Reason,  by  which  supersensual  objects  become 
visible,  as  material  objects  become  visible  to  the  physical 
eye  ; an  inward  sense,  a spiritual  eye,  that  “ gives  evi- 
dence of  things  not  seen  and  substance  to  things  hoped 
for  ; ” a faculty  of  vision  to  which  truths  respecting  God, 
Providence,  Immortality,  Freedom,  the  Moral  Law, 
are  palpably  disclosed.  Kant  had  pronounced  it  impos- 
sible to  prove  that  the  transcendental  idea  had  a corre- 
sponding reality  as  objective  being.  Jacobi  declared  that 
no  such  proof  was  needed  ; that  the  reality  was  neces- 
sarily assumed.  Kant  had  denied  the  existence  of  any 


GERMANY. 


25 


faculty  that  could  guarantee  the  existence  of  either  a sen- 
sual or  a supersensual  world.  Jacobi  was  above  all  else 
certain  that  such  a faculty  there  was,  that  it  was  alto- 
gether trustworthy,  and  that  it  actually  furnished  mate- 
rial for  religious  hope  and  spiritual  life  : the  only  possible 
material,  he  went  on  to  say;  for  without  this  capacity 
of  intuition,  philosophy  could  be  in  his  judgment  noth- 
ing but  an  insubstantial  fabric,  a castle  in  the  air,  a thing 
of  definitions  and  terminologies,  a shifting  body  of  hot 
and  cold  vapor. 

This,  it  will  be  observed,  seemed  a legitimate  conse- 
quence of  Kant’s  method.  Kant  had  admitted  the  sub- 
jective reality  of  sensible  impressions,  and  had  claimed  a 
similar  reality  for  our  mental  images  of  supersensible 
things.  He  allowed  the  validity  as  conceptions , the  practi- 
cal validity,  of  the  ideas  of  God,  Duty,  Immortality.  Ja- 
cobi contended  that  having  gone  so  far,  it  was  lawful  if 
not  compulsory  to  go  farther  ; that  the  subjective  reality 
implied  an  objective  reality  ; that  the  practical  inference 
was  as  valid  as  any  logical  inference  could  be  ; and  that 
through  the  intuition  of  reason  the  mind  was  placed 
again  in  a living  universe  of  divine  realities. 

Chalybaus  says  of  Jacobi  : “With  deep  penetration 
he  traced  the  mystic  fountain  of  desire  after  the  highest 
and  best,  to  the  point  where  it  discloses  itself  as  an  im- 
mediate feeling  in  consciousness  ; that  this  presentiment 
'was  nothing  more  than  Kant  said  it  was — a faint  mark 
made  by  the  compressing  chain  of  logic,  he  would  not 
allow  ; he  described  it  rather  as  the  special  endowment 
and  secret  treasure  of  the  human  mind,  which  he  that 
2 


26 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


would  not  lose  it  must  guard  against  the  touch  of  evil- 
minded  curiosity  ; for  whoever  ventures  into  this  sanc- 
tuary with  the  torch  of  science,  will  fare  as  did  the  youth 
before  the  veiled  image  at  Sais.”  And  again:  “This 
point,  that  a self-subsisting  truth  must  correspond  to  the 
conscious  idea,  that  the  subject  must  have  an  object 
which  is  personal  like  itself,  is  the  ore  that  Jacobi  was 
intent  on  extracting  from  the  layers  of  consciousness  : 
he  disclosed  it  only  in  part,  but  unsatisfactory  as  his  ex- 
position was  to  the  stern  inquisition  of  science,  his  pur- 
pose was  so  strong,  his  aim  so  single,  we  cannot  wonder 
that,  in  spite  of  the  outcry  and  the  scorn  against  his 
‘ Faith  or  Feeling  Philosophy,’  his  thought  survived, 
and  even  entered  on  a new  career  in  later  times.  It 
must,  however,  be  confessed  that  instead  of  following  up 
his  clue,  speculative  fashion,  he  laid  down  his  undevel- 
oped theorem  as  an  essential  truth,  above  speculation, 
declaring  that  speculation  must  end  in  absolute  idealism, 
which  was  but  another  name  for  nihilism  and  fatalism. 
Jacobi  made  his  own  private  consciousness  a measure 
for  the  human  mind.”  At  the  close  of  his  chapter, 
Chalybaus  quotes  Hegel’s  verdict,  expressed  in  these 
words  : “ Jacobi  resembles  a solitary  thinker,  who,  in 
his  life’s  morning,  finds  an  ancient  riddle  hewn  in  the 
primeval  rock  ; he  believes  that  the  riddle  contains  a 
truth,  but  he  tries  in  vain  to  discover  it.  The  day  long 
he  carries  it  about  with  him  ; entices  weighty  suggestions 
from  it ; displays  it  in  shapes  of  teaching  and  imagery 
that  fascinate  listeners,  inspiring  noblest  wishes  and  an- 
ticipations : but  the  interpretation  eludes  him,  and  at 


GERMANY. 


27 


evening  he  lays  him  down  in  the  hope  that  a celestial 
dream  or  the  next  morning’s  waking  will  make  articulate 
the  word  he  longs  for  and  has  believed  in.” 


FICHTE. 

The  transcendental  philosophy  received  from  Jacobi 
an  impulse  toward  mysticism.  From  another  master  it 
received  an  impulse  toward  heroism.  This  master  was 
Johann  Gottlieb  Fichte,  born  at  Rammenau,  in  Upper 
Lusatia,  on  the  19th  of  May,  1762.  A short  memoir  of 
him  by  William  Smith,  published  in  1845,  with  a trans- 
lation of  the  “Nature  of  the  Scholar,”  and  reprinted  in 
Boston,  excited  a deep  interest  among  people  who  had 
neither  sympathy  with  his  philosophy  nor  intelligence 
to  comprehend  it.  He  was  a great  mind,  and  a greater 
character — sensitive,  proud,  brave,  determined,  enthusi- 
astic, imperious,  aspiring;  a mighty  soul;  “a  cold, 
colossal,  adamantine  spirit,  standing  erect  and  clear,  like 
a Cato  Major  among  degenerate  men  ; fit  to  have  been 
the  teacher  of  theStoa,  and  to  have  discoursed  of  beauty 
and  virtue  in  the  groves  of  Academe  ! So  robust  an  in- 
tellect, a soul  so  calm,  so  lofty,  massive,  and  immovable, 
has  not  mingled  in  philosophical  discussion  since  the 
time  of  Luther.  For  the  man  rises  before  us  amid  contra- 
diction and  debate  like  a granite  mountain  amid  clouds 
and  winds.  As  a man  approved  by  action  and  suffer- 
ing, in  his  life  and  in  his  death,  he  ranks  with  a class  of 
men  who  were  common  only  in  better  ages  than  ours.” 


28 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Thus  wrote  Thomas  Carlyle  of  him  more  than  a gen- 
eration ago. 

The  direction  given  to  philosophy  by  such  a man  could 
not  but  be  decided  and  bold.  His  short  treatises,  all 
marked  by  intellectual  power,  some  by  glowing  elo- 
quence, carried  his  thoughts  beyond  the  philosophical 
circle  and  spread  his  leading  principles  far  beyond  the 
usual  speculative  lines.  “ The  Destination  of  Man,” 
“ The  Vocation  of  the  Scholar,”  “The  Nature  of  the 
Scholar,”  “The  Vocation  of  Man,”  “The  Character- 
istics of  the  Present  Age,”  “ The  Way  towards  the 
Blessed  Life,”  were  translated  into  English,  published 
in  the  “ Catholic  Series  ” of  John  Chapman,  and  exten- 
sively read.  The  English  reviewers  helped  to  make  the 
author  and  his  ideas  known  to  many  readers. 

The  contribution  that  Fichte  made  to  the  transcenden- 
tal philosophy  may  be  described  without  using  many 
words.  He  became  acquainted  with  Kant’s  system  in 
Leipsic,  where  he  was  teaching,  in  1790.  The  effect  it 
had  on  him  is  described  in  letters  to  his  friends.  To 
one  he  wrote  : “ The  last  four  or  five  months  which 
I have  passed  in  Leipsic  have  been  the  happiest  of 
my  life  ; and  the  most  satisfactory'  part  of  it  is,  that  I 
have  to  thank  no  man  for  the  smallest  ingredient  in  its 
pleasures.  When  I came  to  Leipsic  my  brain  swarmed 
with  great  plans.  All  were  wrecked  ; and  of  so  many 
soap-bubbles  there  now  remains  not  even  the  light  froth 
that  composed  them.  This  disturbed  a little  my  peace 
of  mind,  and  half  in  despair  I joined  a party  to  which  I 
should  long  ere  this  have  belonged.  Since  I could  not 


GERMANY. 


29 


alter  my  outward  condition,  I resolved  on  internal 
change.  I threw  myself  into  philosophy,  and,  as  you 
know,  the  Kantean.  Here  I found  the  remedy  for  my 
ills,  and  joy  enough  to  boot.  The  influence  of  this  phi- 
losophy, the  moral  part  of  it  in  particular  (which,  how- 
ever, is  unintelligible  without  previous  study  of  the  ‘ Cri- 
tique of  Pure  Reason  ’),  on  the  whole  spiritual  life,  and 
especially  the  revolution  it  has  caused  in  my  own  mode 
of  thought,  is  indescribable.”  To  another  he  wrote 
in  similar  strain:  “I  have  lived  in  a new  world  since 
reading  the  ‘ Critique  of  Pure  Reason.’  Principles  I 
believed  irrefragable  are  refuted ; things  I thought 
could  never  be  proved — the  idea  of  absolute  freedom,  of 
duty,  for  example — are  demonstrated  ; and  I am  so  much 
the  happier.  It  is  indescribable  what  respect  for 
humanity,  what  power  this  system  gives  us.  What  a 
blessing  to  an  age  in  which  morality  was  torn  up  by  the 
roots,  and  the  word  duty  blotted  out  of  the  dictionary  ! ” 
To  Johanna  Rahn  he  expresses  himself  in  still  heartier 
terms  : “ My  scheming  mind  has  found  rest  at  last,  and 
I thank  Providence  that  shortly  before  all  my  hopes  were 
frustrated  I was  placed  in  a position  which  enabled  me  to 
bear  the  disappointment  with  cheerfulness.  A circum- 
stance that  seemed  the  result  of  mere  chance  induced  me 
to  devote  myself  entirely  to  the  study  of  the  Kantean 
philosophy — a philosophy  that  restrains  the  imagination, 
always  too  strong  with  me,  gives  reason  sway,  and  raises 
the  soul  to  an  unspeakable  height  above  all  earthly 
concerns.  I have  accepted  a nobler  morality,  and  in- 
stead of  busying  myself  with  outward  things,  I concern 


30 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


myself  more  with  my  own  being.  It  has  given  me  a 
peace  such  as  I never  before  experienced  ; amid  uncer- 
tain worldly  prospects  I have  passed  my  happiest  days. 
It  is  difficult  beyond  all  conception,  and  stands  greatly 
in  need  of  simplification.  . . . The  first  elements  are 
hard  speculations,  that  have  no  direct  bearing  on  human 
life,  but  their  conclusions  are  most  important  for  an  age 
whose  morality  is  corrupted  at  the  fountain  head  ; and 
to  set  these  consequences  before  the  world  would,  I be- 
lieve, be  doing  it  a good  service.  I am  now  thoroughly 
convinced  that  the  human  will  is  free,  and  that  to  be 
happy  is  not  the  purpose  of  our  being,  but  to  deserve 
happiness.”  So  great  was  Fichte’s  admiration  of  Kant’s 
system,  that  he  became  at  once  an  expositor  of  its  prin- 
ciples, in  the  hope  that  he  might  render  it  intelligible 
and  attractive  to  minds  of  ordinary  culture. 

Fichte  considered  himself  a pure  Kantean,  perhaps 
the  only  absolutely  consistent  one  there  was  ; and  that  he 
did  so  is  not  surprising  ; for,  in  mending  the  master’s 
positions,  he  seemed  to  be  strengthening  them  against 
assault.  He  did  not,  like  Jacobi,  draw  inferences  which 
Kant  had  laboriously,  and,  as  it  seemed,  effectually  cut 
off ; he  merely  entrenched  himself  within  the  lines  the 
philosopher  of  Kdnigsberg  had  drawn.  Kant  had,  so 
his  critics  charged,  taken  for  granted  the  reality  of  our 
perceptions  of  outward  things.  This  was  the  weak  point 
in  his  system,  of  which  his  adversaries  took  advantage. 
On  this  side  he  allowed  empiricism  to  construct  his  wall, 
and  left  incautiously  an  opening  which  the  keen-sighted 
foe  perceived  at  once.  Fichte  bethought  him  to  fortify 


GERMANY. 


31 


that  point,  and  thus  make  the  philosophy  unassailable  ; 
to  take  it,  in  fact,  out  of  the  category  of  a philosophical 
system,  and  give  it  the  character  of  a science.  To  this 
end,  with  infinite  pains  and  incredible  labor,  he  tested 
the  foundations  to  discover  the  fundamental  and  final 
facts  which  rested  on  the  solid  rock.  The  ultimate  facts 
of  consciousness  were  in  question. 

Fichte  accepted  without  hesitation  the  confinement 
within  the  limits  of  consciousness  against  which  Jacobi 
rebelled,  and  proceeded  to  make  the  prison  worthy 
of  such  an  occupant.  The  facts  of  consciousness,  he  ad- 
mitted, are  all  we  have.  The  states  and  activities  of  the 
mind,  perceptions,  ideas,  judgments,  sentiments,  or  by 
whatever  other  name  they  may  be  called,  constitute,  by 
his  admission,  all  our  knowledge,  and  beyond  them  we 
cannot  go.  They  are,  however,  solid  and  substantial. 
Of  the  outward  world  he  knew  nothing  and  had  nothing 
to  say  ; he  was  not  concerned  with  that.  The  mind  is 
the  man  ; the  history  of  the  mind  is  the  man’s  history ; 
the  processes  of  the  mind  report  the  whole  of  experience  ; 
the  phenomena  of  the  external  universe  are  mere  phe- 
nomena, reflections,  so  far  as  we  know,  of  our  thought ; 
the  mountains,  woods,  stars,  are  facts  of  consciousness, 
to  which  we  attach  these  names.  To  infer  that  they  exist 
because  we  have  ideas  of  them,  is  illegitimate  in  philoso- 
phy. The  ideas  stand  by  themselves,  and  are  sufficient 
of  themselves. 

The  mind  is  first,  foremost,  creative  and  supreme.  It 
takes  the  initiative  in  all  processes.  He  that  assumes 
the  existence  of  an  external  world  does  so  on  the  author- 


32 


TRANSCENDENTALISM 


ity  of  consciousness.  If  he  says  that  consciousness  com- 
pels us  to  assume  the  existence  of  such  a world,  that  it 
is  so  constituted  as  to  imply  the  realization  of  its  con- 
ception, still  we  have  simply  the  fact  of  consciousness  ; 
power  to  verify  the  relation  between  this  inner  fact  and 
a corresponding  physical  representation,  there  is  none. 
Analyze  the  facts  of  consciousness  as  much  as  we  may, 
revise  them,  compare  them,  we  are  still  within  their 
circle  and  cannot  pass  beyond  its  limit.  Is  it  urged  that 
the  existence  of  an  external  world  is  a necessary  postu- 
late ? The  same  reply  avails,  namely,  that  the  idea  of  ne- 
cessity is  but  one  of  our  ideas,  a conception  of  the  mind, 
an  inner  notion  or  impression  which  legitimates  itself 
alone.  Does  the  objector  further  insist,  in  a tone  of  ex- 
asperation caused  by  what  seems  to  him  quibbling,  that 
in  this  case  consciousness,  plays  us  false,  mdkes  a prom- 
ise to  the  ear  which  it  breaks  to  the  hope — lies,  in  short  ? 
The  imperturbable  philosopher  sets  aside  the  insinua- 
tion as  an  impertinence.  The  fact  of  consciousness,  he 
maintains,  stands  and  testifies  for  itself.  It  is  not  an- 
swerable for  anything  out  of  its  sphere.  In  saying  what 
it  does  it  speaks  the  truth  ; the  whole  truth,  so  far  as 
we  can  determine.  Whether  or  no  it  is  absolutely  the 
whole  truth,  the  truth  as  it  lies  in  a mind  otherwise  con- 
stituted, is  no  concern  of  ours. 

The  reasoning  by  which  Fichte  cut  off  the  certainty  ot 
a material  world  outside  of  the  mind,  told  with  equal 
force  against  the  objective  existence  of  a spiritual  world. 
The  mental  vision  being  bounded  by  the  mental  sphere, 
its  objects  being  there  and  only  there,  with  them  we 


GERMANY. 


33 


must  be  content.  The  soul  has  its  domain,  untrodden 
forests  to  explore,  silent  and  trackless  ways  to  follow, 
mystery  to  rest  in,  light  to  walk  by,  fountains  and  floods 
of  living  water,  starry  firmaments  of  thought,  conti- 
nents of  reason,  zones  of  law,  and  with  this  domain  it 
must  be  satisfied.  God  is  one  of  its  ideas  ; immortality  is 
another  ; that  they  are  anything  more  than  ideas,  cannot 
be  known. 

That  the  charge  of  atheism  should  be  brought 
against  so  uncompromising  a thinker,  is  a less  grave  im- 
putation upon  the  discernment  of  his  contemporaries 
than  ordinarily  it  is.  That  he  should  have  been  obliged, 
in  consequence  of  it,  to  leave  Jena,  and  seek  an  asylum 
in  Prussia,  need  not  excite  indignation,  at  least  in  those 
who  remember  his  unwillingness  or  inability  to  modify 
his  view,  or  explain  the  sense  in  which  he  called  himself 
a believer.  To  “ charge  ” a man  with  atheism,  as  if 
atheism  were  guilt,  is  a folly  to  be  ashamed  of ; but 
to  “ class  ” a man  among  atheists  who  in  no  sense  ac- 
cepts the  doctrine  of  an  intelligent,  creative  Cause,  is 
just,  while  language  has  meaning.  And  this  is  Fichte’s 
position.  In  his  philosophy  there  was  no  place  for  as- 
surance of  a Being  corresponding  to  the  mental  concep- 
tion. The  word  “ God  ” with  him  expressed  the  category 
of  the  Ideal.  The  world  being  but  the  incarnation  of 
our  sense  of  duty,  the  reflection  of  the  mind,  the  creator 
of  it  is  the  mind.  God,  being  a reflection  of  the  soul  in  its 
own  atmosphere,  is  one  of  the  soul’s  creations,  a shadow- 
on  the  surface  of  a pool.  The  soul  creates  ; deity  is  cre- 
ated. This  is  not  even  ideal  atheism,  like  that  of  Etienne 


54 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Vacherot ; it  may  be  much  nobler  and  more  inspiring 
than  the  recognized  forms  of  theism  ; it  is  dogmatic  or 
speculative  atheism  only  : but  that  it  is,  and  that  it 
should  confess  itself.  It  was  natural  that  Fichte,  being 
perfect  master  of  his  thought,  should  disclaim  and  resent 
an  imputation  which  in  spirit  he  felt  was  undeserved. 
It  was  natural  that  people  who  were  not  masters  of  his 
thought,  and  would  not  have  appreciated  it  if  they  had 
been,  should  judge  him  by  the  only  definitions  they  had. 
Berkeley  and  Fichte  stood  at  opposite  extremes  in  their 
Idealism.  Berkeley,  starting  from  the  theological  con- 
ception of  God,  maintained  that  the  outward  world  had 
a real  existence  in  the  supreme  mind,  being  phenomenal 
only  to  the  human.  Fichte,  starting  from  the  human 
mind,  contended  that  it  was  altogether  phenomenal,  the 
supreme  mind  itself  being  phantasmal. 

How  came  it,  some  will  naturally  ask,  that  such  a man 
escaped  the  deadly  consequences  of  such  resolute  intro- 
spection ? Where  was  there  the  indispensable  basis  for 
actiop  and  reaction  ? Life  is  conditioned  by  limitation  ; 
the  shore  .gives  character  to  the  sea  ; the  outward  world 
gives  character  to  the  man,  excites  his  energy,  defines 
his  aim,  trains  his  perception,  educates  his  will,  offers  a 
horizon  to  his  hope.  The  outward  world  being  removed, 
dissipated,  resolved  into  impalpable  thought,  what  sub- 
stitute for  it  can  be  devised  ? Must  not  the  man  sink 
into  a visionary,  and  \vaste  his  life  in  dream  ? 

That  Fichte  was  practically  no  dreamer,  has  already 
i'bftttu  said.  The  man  who  closed  a severe,  stately,  and 
glp.wng  lecture  on  duty  with  the  announcement — it 


GERMANY. 


35 


was  in  1813,  when  the  French  drums  were  rattling  in  the 
street,  at  times  drowning  the  speaker’s  voice — that  the 
course  would  be  suspended  till  the  close  of  the  campaign, 
and  would  be  resumed,  if  resumed  at  all,  in  a free  coun- 
try, and  thereupon,  with  a German  patriot’s  enthusiasm, 
rushed  himself  into  the  field — this  man  was  no  visionary, 
lost  in  dreams.  The  internal  world  was  with  him  a liv- 
ing world  ; the  mind  was  a living  energy  ; ideas  were 
things  ; principles  were  verities  ; the  laws  of  thought 
were  laws  of  being.  So  intense  was  his  feeling  of  the 
substantial  nature  of  these  invisible  entities,  that  the  ob- 
verse side  of  them,  the  negation  of  them,  had  all  the  vis 
inertia,  all  the  objective  validity  of  external  things.  He 
spoke  of  “absolute  limitations,”  “inexplicable  limita- 
tions,” against  which  the  mind  pressed  as  against  palpa- 
ble obstacles,  and  in  pressing  against  which  it  acquired 
tension  and  vigor.  Passing  from  the  realm  of  specula- 
tion into  that  of  practice,  the  obstacles  assumed  the 
attributes  of  powers,  the  impediments  became  foes, 
to  be  resisted  as  strenuously  as  ever  soldier  opposed 
soldier  in  battle.  From  the  strength  of  this  conviction 
he  was  enabled  to  say  : “I  am  well  convinced  that 
this  life  is  not  a scene  of  enjoyment,  but  of  labor  and 
toil,  and  that  every  joy  is  granted  but  to  strengthen 
us  for  further  exertion  ; that  the  control  of  our  fate  is 
not  required  of  us,  but  only  our  self-culture.  I give 
myself  no  concern  about  external  things  ; I endeavor  to 
be,  not  to  seem  ; I am  no  man’s  master,  and  no  man’s 
slave.” 

Fichte  was  a sublime  egoist.  In  his  view,  the  mind 


36  I KAXS  CENDENTALISM. 

was  sovereign  and  absolute,  capable  of  spontaneous, 
self-determined,  originating  action,  having  power  to  pro- 
pose its  own  end  and  pursue  its  own  freely-chosen 
course  ; a live  intelligence,  eagerly  striving  after  self- 
development,  to  fulfil  all  the  possibilities  of  its  nature. 
Of  one  thing  he  was  certain — the  reality  of  the  rational 
soul,  and  in  that  certainty  lay  the  ground  of  his  tremen- 
dous weight  of  assertion.  His  professional  chair  was  a 
throne  ; his  discourses  were  prophecies  ; his  tone  was 
the  tone  of  an  oracle.  It  made  the  blood  burn  to  hear 
him  ; it  makes  the  blood  burn  at  this  distance  to  read 
his  printed  words.  To  cite  a few  sentences  from  his 
writings  in  illustration  of  the  man’s  way  of  dealing  with 
the  great  problems  of  life,  is  almost  a necessity.  The 
following  often-quoted  but  pregnant  passage  is  from 
“ The  Destination  of  Man  : ” “I  understand  thee  now, 
spirit  sublime  ! I have  found  the  organ  by  which  to  ap- 
prehend this  reality,  and  probably  all  other.  It  is  not 
knowledge,  for  knowledge  can  only  demonstrate  and 
establish  itself ; every  kind  of  knowledge  supposes  some 
higher  knowledge  upon  which  it  is  founded  ; and  of  this 
ascent  there  is  no  end.  It  is  faith,  that  voluntary  repose 
in  the  ideas  that  naturally  come  to  us,  because  through 
these  only  we  can  fulfil  our  destiny  ; which  sets  its  seal 
on  knowledge,  and  raises  to  conviction,  to  certainty, 
what,  without  it,  might  be  sheer  delusion.  It  is  not 
knowledge,  but  a resolve  to  commit  one’s  self  to  knowl- 
edge. No  merely  verbal  distinction  this,  but  a true  and 
deep  one,  charged  with  momentous  consequences  to  the 
whole  character.  All  conviction  is  of  faith,  and  pro- 


GERMANY. 


37 


ceeds  from  the  heart,  not  from  the  understanding. 
Knowing  this,  I will  enter  into  no  controversy,  for  1 
foresee  that  in  this  way  nothing  can  be  gained.  I will 
not  endeavor,  by  reasoning,  to  press  my  conviction  on 
others,  nor  will  I be  discouraged  if  such  an  attempt 
should  fail.  My  mode  of  thinking  I have  adopted  for 
myself,  not  for  others,  and  to  myself  only  need  I justify 
it.  Whoever  has  the  same  upright  intention  will  also 
attain  the  same  or  a similar  conviction,  and  without  it 
that  is  impossible.  Now  that  I know  this,  I know  also 
from  what  point  all  culture  of  myself  and  others  must 
proceed  ; from  the  will,  and  not  from  the  understand- 
ing. Let  but  the  first  be  steadily  directed  toward  the 
good,  the  last  will  of  itself  apprehend  the  true.  Should 
the  last  be  exercised  and  developed,  while  the  first  re- 
mains neglected,  nothing  can  result  but  a facility  in  vain 
and  endless  refinements  of  sophistry.  In  faith  I possess 
the  test  of  all  truth  and  all  conviction  ; truth  originates 
in  the  conscience,  and  what  contradicts  its  authority,  or 
makes  us  unwilling  or  incapable  of  rendering  obedience 
to  it,  is  most  certainly  false,  even  should  I be  unable  to 
discover  tlie  fallacies  through  which  it  is  reached. 

What  unity,  what  completeness  and 

dignity,  our  human  nature  receives  from  this  view  ! Our 
thought  is  not  based  on  itself,  independently  of  our  in- 
stincts and  inclinations.  Man  does  not  consist  of  two 
beings  running  parallel  to  each  other  ; he  is  absolutely 
one.  Our  entire  system  of  thought  is  founded  on  intui- 
tion ; as  is  the  heart  of  the  individual,  so  is  his  knowl- 
edge.” 


TRANSCENDED  TALISM. 


3S 

“The  everlasting  world  now  rises  before  me  more 
brightly,  and  the  fundamental  laws  of  its  order  are 
more  clearly  revealed  to  my  mental  vision.  The  will 
alone,  lying  hid  from  mortal  eyes  in  the  obscurest  depths 
of  the  soul,  is  the  first  link  in  a chain  of  consequences 
that  stretches  through  the  invisible  realm  of  spirit,  as, 
in  this  terrestrial  world,  the  action  itself,  a certain  move- 
ment communicated  to  matter,  is  the  first  link  in  a 
material  chain  that  encircles  the  whole  system.  The 
will  is  the  effective  cause,  the  living  principle  of  the 
world  of  spirit,  as  motion  is  of  the  world  of  sense. 
The  will  is  in  itself  a constituent  part  of  the  transcen- 
dental world.  By  my  free  determination  I change  and 
set  in  motion  something  in  this  transcendental  world, 
and  my  energy  gives  birth  to  an  effect  that  is  new,  per- 
manent, and  imperishable.  Let  this  will  find  expression 
in  a practical  deed,  and  this  deed  belongs  to  the  world 
of  sense  and  produces  effects  according  to  the  virtue  it 
contains.” 

This  is  the  stoical  aspect  of  the  doctrine.  The  softer 
side  of  it  appears  throughout  the  book  that  is  entitled 
“ The  Way  towards  the  Blessed  Life.”  We  quote  a few 
passages  from  the  many  the  eloquence  whereof  does  no 
more  than  justice  to  the  depth  of  sentiment : 

“ Full  surely  there  is  a blessedness  beyond  the  grave 
for  those  who  have  already  entered  on  it  here,  and  in  no 
other  form  than  that  wherein  they  know  it  here,  at  any 
moment.  By  mere  burial  man  arrives  not  at  bliss  ; and 
in  the  future  life,  throughout  its  whole  infinite  range, 
they  will  seek  for  happiness  as  vainly  as  they  sought  it 


GERMANY. 


39 


here,  who  seek  it  in  aught  else  than  that  which  so  closely 
surrounds  them  here — the  Infinite.” 

“ Religion  consists  herein,  that  man  in  his  own  per- 
son, with  his  own  spiritual  eye,  immediately  beholds  and 
possesses  God.  This,  however,  is  possible  through  pure 
independent  thought  alone ; for  only  through  this  does 
man  assume  real  personality,  and  this  alone  is  the  eye 
to  which  God  becomes  visible.  Pure  thought  is  itself 
the  divine  existence  ; and  conversely,  the  divine  exist- 
ence, in  its  immediate  essence,  is  nothing  else  than 
pure  thought.” 

“ The  truly  religious  man  conceives  of  his  world  as 
action,  which,  because  it  is  his  world,  he  alone  creates, 
in  which  alone  he  can  live  and  find  satisfaction.  This 
action  he  does  not  will  for  the  sake  of  results  in  the 
world  of  sense  ; he  is  in  no  respect  anxious  in  regard  to 
results,  for  he  lives  in  action  simply  as  action  ; he  wills 
it  because  it  is  the  will  of  God  in  him,  and  his  own  pe- 
culiar portion  in  being.” 

“ As  to  those  in  whom  the  will  of  God  is  not  inwardly 
accomplished, — because  there  is  no  inward  life  in  them, 
for  they  are  altogether  outward, — upon  them  the  will  of 
God  is  wrought  as  alone  it  can  be  ; appearing  at  first 
sight  bitter  and  ungracious,  though  in  reality  merciful 
and  loving  in  the  highest  degree.  To  those  who  do  not 
love  God,  all  things  must  work  together  immediately 
for  pain  and  torment,  until,  by  means  of  the  tribulation, 
they  are  led  to  salvation  at  last.” 

Language  like  this  from  less  earnest  lips  might  be  de- 
ceptive ; but  from  the  lips  of  a teacher  like  Fichte  it 


40 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


tells  of  the  solid  grandeurs  that  faithful  men  possess  in 
the  ideal  creations  of  their  souls  ; the  habitableness  of 
air-castles. 


SCHELLING. 

The  chief  sources  from  which  the  transcendental  philos- 
ophy came  from  Germany  to  America  have  been  indi- 
cated. The  traces  of  Jacobi  and  Fichte  are  broad  and 
distinct  on  the  mind  of  the  New  World.  Of  Schelling  little 
need  be  said,  for  his  works  were  not  translated  into  Eng- 
lish, and  the  French  translation  of  the  “ Transcendental 
Idealism  ” was  not  announced  till  1850,  when  the  move- 
ment in  New  England  was  subsiding.  His  system  was 
too  abstract  and  technical  in  form  to  interest  any  but  his 
countrymen.  Coleridge  was  fascinated  by  it,  and  yielded 
to  the  fascination  so  far  as  to  allow  the  thoughts  of  the 
German  metaphysician  to  take  possession  of  his  mind  ; 
but  for  Coleridge,  indeed,  few  English-speaking  men 
would  have  known  what  the  system  was.  Transcen- 
dentalism in  New  England  was  rather  spiritual  and  prac- 
tical than  metaphysical.  Jacobi  and  Fichte  were  both; 
it  can  scarcely  be  said  that  Schelling  was  either.  His 
books  were  hard  ; his  ideas  underwent  continual  changes 
in  detail ; his  speculative  system  was  developed  grad- 
ually in  a long  course  of  years.  But  for  certain  gran- 
diose conceptions  which  had  a charm  for  the  imagination 
and  fascinated  the  religious  sentiment,  his  name  need  not 
be  mentioned  in  this  little  incidental  record  at  all.  There 
was,  however,  in  Schelling  something  that  recalled  the 


GERMANY. 


41 


ideal  side  of  Plato,  more  that  suggested  Plotinus,  the 
neo-Platonists  and  Alexandrines,  a mystical  pantheistic 
quality  that  mingled  well  with  the  general  elements  of 
Idealism,  and  gave  atmosphere,  as  it  were,  to  the  tender 
feeling  of  Jacobi  and  the  heroic  will  of  Fichte. 

Schelling  was  Fichte’s  disciple,  filled  his  vacant  chair 
in  Jena  in  1798,  and  took  his  philosophical  departure 
from  certain,  of  his  positions.  Fichte  had  shut  the  man 
up  close  in  himself,  had  limited  the  conception  of  the 
world  by  the  boundaries  of  consciousness,  had  reduced 
the  inner  universe  to  a full-orbed  creation,  made  its  facts 
substantial  and  its  fancies  solid,  peopled  it  with  living 
forces,  and  found  room  in  it  for  the  exercise  of  a com- 
plete moral  and  spiritual  life.  In  his  system  the  soul  was 
creator.  The  outer  universe  had  its  being  in  human 
thought.  Subject  and  object  were  one,  and  that  one 
was  the  subject. 

Schelling  restored  the  external  w'orld  to  its  place  as  an 
objective  reality,  no  fiction,  no  projection  from  the 
human  mind.  Subject  and  object,  in  his  view,  were  one, 
but  in  the  ABSOLUTE,  the  universal  soul,  the  infinite  and 
eternal  mind.  His  original  fire  mist  was  the  unorgan- 
ized intelligence  of  which  the  universe  was  the  expression. 
Finite  minds  are  but  phases  of  manifestation  of  the  in- 
finite mind,  inlets  into  which  it  flows,  some  deeper, 
wider,  longer  than  others.  Spirit  and  matter  are  reverse 
aspects  of  being.  Spirit  is  invisible  nature,  nature  in- 
visible spirit.  Starting  from  nature,  we  may  work  our 
way  into  intelligence  ; starting  from  intelligence,  we  may 
work  our  way  out  to  nature.  Thought  and  existence 


42 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


having  the  same  ground,  ideal  and  real  being  one, 
the  work  of  philosophy  is  twofold — from  nature  to  ar- 
rive at  spirit,  from  spirit  to  arrive  at  nature.  They  who 
wish  to  know  how  Schelling  did  it  must  consult  the 
histories  of  philosophy  ; the  most  popular  of  them  will 
satisfy  all  but  the  experts.  It  is  easy  to  conjecture  into 
what  mysterious  ways  the  clue  might  lead,  and  in  what 
wilderness  of  thickets  the  reader  might  be  lost  ; how  in 
mind  we  are  to  see  nature  struggling  upward  into  con- 
sciousness, and  in  nature  mind  seeking  endless  forms  of 
finite  expression.  To  unfold  both  processes,  in  uniform 
and  balanced  movement,  avoiding  pantheism  on  one 
side,  and  materialism  on  the  other,  was  the  endeavor  we 
shall  not  attempt,  even  in  the  most  cursory  manner,  to 
describe.  God  becomes  conscious  in  man,  the  philo- 
sophic man,  the  man  of  reason,  in  whom  the  absolute  be- 
ing recognizes  himself.  The  reason  gazes  immediately 
on  the  eternal  realities,  by  virtue  of  what  was  called 
“ intellectual  intuition,”  which  beholds  both  subject  and 
object  as  united  in  a single  thought.  Reason  was  im- 
personal, no  attribute  of  the  finite  intelligence,  no  fact 
of  the  individual  consciousness,  but  a faculty,  if  that  be 
the  word  for  it,  that  transcended  all  finite  experience, 
commanded  a point  superior  to  consciousness,  was,  in 
fact,  the  all-seeing  eye  confronting  itself.  What  room  here 
for  intellectual  rovers  ! What  mystic  groves  for  ecstatic 
souls  to  lose  themselves  in  ! What  intricate  mazes  for 
those  who  are  fond  of  hunting  phantoms  ! Flashes  of  dim 
glory  from  this  tremendous  speculation  are  seen  in  the 
writings  of  Emerson,  Parker,  Alcott,  and  other  seers, 


GERMANY. 


43 


probably  caught  by  reflection,  or  struck  out,  as  they 
were  by  Schelling  himself,  by  minds  moving  on  the  same 
level.  In  Germany  the  lines  of  speculation  were  carried 
out  in  labyrinthine  detail,  as,  fortunately,  they  were  not 
elsewhere. 

Of  Hegel,  the  successor  in  thought  of  Schelling,  there 
is  no  call  here  to  speak  at  all.  His  speculation,  though 
influential  in  America,  as  influential  as  that  of  either 
of  his  predecessors,  was  scarcely  known  thirty-five 
years  ago,  and  if  it  had  been,  would  have  possessed 
little  charm  for  idealists  of  the  New  England  stamp. 
That  system  has  borne  fruits  of  a very  different  quality, 
being  adopted  largely  by  churchmen,  whom  it  has  justi- 
fied and  fortified  in  their  ecclesiastical  forms,  doctrinal  and 
sacramental,  and  by  teachers  of  moderately  progressive 
tendencies.  The  duty  of  unfolding  his  ideas  has  de- 
volved upon  students  of  German,  as  no  other  language 
has  given  them  anything  like  adequate  expression. 
Hegel,  too,  was  more  formidable  than  Schelling  ; the 
latter  was  brilliant,  dashing,  imaginative,  glowing;  his 
ideas  shone  in  the  air,  and  were  caught  with  little  toil  by 
enthusiastic  minds.  To  comprehend  or  even  to  appre- 
hend Hegel  requires  more  philosophical  culture  than 
was  found  in  New  England  half  a century  ago,  more 
than  is  by  any  means  common  to-day.  Modern  specu- 
lative philosophy  is,  as  a rule,  Hegelian.  Its  spirit  is 
conservative,  and  it  scarcely  at  all  lends  countenance  to 
movements  so  revolutionary  as  those  that  shook  New 
England. 

Long  before  the  time  we  are  dealing  with— as  early  as 


44 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


1824 — the  philosophy  of  Hegel  had  struck  hands  with 
church  and  state  in  Prussia  ; Hegel  was  at  once  prophet, 
priest,  and  prince.  In  the  fulness  of  his  powers,  ripe 
in  ability  and  in  fame,  he  sat  in  the  chair  that  Fichte 
had  occupied,  and  gave  laws  to  the  intellectual  world. 
He  would  “ teach  philosophy  to  talk  German,  as  Luther 
had  taught  the  Bible  to  do.”  A crowd  of  enthusiasts 
thronged  about  him.  The  scientific  and  literary  celebri- 
ties of  Berlin  sat  at  his  feet  ; state  officials  attended  his 
lectures  and  professed  themselves  his  disciples.  The 
government  provided  liberally  for  his  salary,  and  paid 
the  travelling  expenses  of  this  great  ambassador  of  the 
mind.  The  old  story  of  disciple  become  master  was 
told  again.  The  philosopher  was  the  friend  of  those 
that  befriended  him  ; the  servant,  some  say,  of  those 
that  lavished  on  him  honors.  Then  the  new  philo- 
sophy that  was  to  reconstruct  the  mental  world  learned 
to  accept  the  actual  world  as  it  existed,  and  lent  its 
powerful  aid  to  the  order  of  things  it  promised  to  re- 
construct. Throwing  out  the  aphorism,  “ The  rational 
is  the  actual,  the  actual  is  the  rational,”  Hegel  de- 
clared that  natural  right,  morality,  and  even  religion 
are  properly  subordinated  to  authority.  The  despotic 
Prussian  system  welcomed  the  great  philosopher  as 
its  defender.  The  Prussian  Government  was  not 
tardy  in  showing  appreciation  of  its  advocate’s  eminent 
service'' 

The  cnurch,  taking  the  hint,  put  in  its  claim  to  patron- 
age. It  needed  protection  against  the  rationalism  that 
was  coming  up  ; and  such  protection  the  majesty  of  He- 


GERMANY. 


45 


gel  vouchsafed  to  offer.  Faith  and  philosophy  formed  a 
new  alliance.  Orthodox  professors  gave  in  their  loy- 
alty to  the  man  who  taught  that  “ God  was  in  process  of 
becoming,”  and  the  man  who  taught  that  “God  was  in 
process  of  becoming”  welcomed  the  orthodox  professors 
to  the  circle  of  his  disciples.  He  was  more  orthodox 
than  the  orthodox  ; he  gave  the  theologians  new  ex- 
planations of  their  own  dogmas,  and  supplied  them  with 
arguments  against  their  own  foes.  Trinity,  incarnation, 
atonement,  redemption,  were  all  interpreted  and  justi- 
fied, to  the  complete  satisfaction  of  the  ecclesiastical 
powers. 

This  being  the  influence  of  the  master,  and  of  philoso- 
phy as  he  explained  it,  the  formation  of  a new  school 
by  the  earnest,  liberal  men  who  drew  very  different  con- 
clusions from  the  master’s  first  principles,  was  to  be  ex- 
pected. But  the  “ New  Hegelians,”  as  they  were  called, 
became  disbelievers  in  religion  and  in  spiritual  things  alto- 
gether, and  either  lapsed,  like  Strauss,  into  intellectual 
scepticism,  or,  like  Feuerbach,  became  aggressive  ma- 
terialists. The  ideal  elements  in  Hegel’s  system  were  ap- 
propriated by  Christianity,  and  were  employed  against 
liberty  and  progress.  Spiritualists,  whether  in  the  old 
world  or  the  new,  had  little  interest  in  a philosophy  that 
so  readily  favored  two  opposite  tendencies,  both  of 
which  they  abhorred.  To  them  the  spiritual  philosophy 
was  represented  by  Hegel’s  predecessors.  The  disciples 
of  sentiment  accepted  Jacobi  ; the  loyalists  of  conscience 
followed  Fichte  ; the  severe  metaphysicians,  of  whom 
there  were  a few,  adhered  to  Kant  ; the  soaring  specu- 


46 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


lators  and  imaginative  theosophists  spread  their  “ sheeny 
vans,”  and  soared  into  the  regions  of  the  absolute  with 
Schelling.  The  idealists  of  New  England  were  largest 
debtors  to  Jacobi  and  Fichte. 


III. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  THEOLOGY  AND 
LITERATURE. 

One  of  the  earliest  students  of  the  German  language 
in  Boston  was  Dr.  N.  L.  Frothingham,  Unitarian  minis- 
ter of  the  First  Church.  Among  the  professional  books 
that  interested  him  was  one  by  Herder,  “ Letters  to  a 
Young  Theologian,”  chapters  from  which  he  translated 
for  the  “ Christian  Disciple,”  the  precursor  of  the  “ Chris- 
tian Examiner.”  Of  Herder,  George  Bancroft  wrote  an 
account  in  the  “ North  American  Review,”  and  George 
Ripley  in  the  “ Christian  Examiner.”  The  second 
number  of  “ The  Dial  ” contains  a letter  from  Mr.  Rip- 
ley to  a theological  student,  in  which  this  particular 
book  of  Herder  is  warmly  commended,  as  being  worth 
the  trouble  of  learning  German  to  read.  The  volume 
was  remarkable  for  earnest  enlightenment,  its  discern- 
ment of  the  spirit  beneath  the  letter,  its  generous  inter- 
pretations, and  its  suggestions  of  a better  future  for  the 
philosophy  of  religion.  Herder  was  one  of  the  illumi- 
nated minds  ; though  not  professedly  a disciple,  he  had 
felt  the  influence  of  Kant,  and  was  cordially  in  sympa- 
thy with  the  men  who  were  trying  to  break  the  spell  of 
form  and  tradition.  With  Lessing  more  especially,  Her- 
der’s “ Spirit  of  Hebrew  Poetry,”  of  which  a translation 
by  Dr.  James  Marsh  was  published  in  1833,  found  its 


48 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


way  to  New  England,  and  helped  to  confirm  the  dispo- 
sition to  seek  the  springs  of  inspiration  in  the  human 
mind,  whence  all  poetry  proceeded.  The  writer  of  the 
book,  by  applying  to  Hebrew  poetry  the  rules  of  critical 
appreciation  by  which  all  poetic  creations  are  judged, 
abolished  so  far  the  distinction  between  sacred  and  sec- 
ular, and  transferred  to  the  credit  of  human  genius  the 
products  commonly  ascribed  to  divine.  In  the  persons 
of  the  great  bards  of  Israel  all  bards  were  glorified  ; the 
soul’s  creative  power  was  recognized,  and  with  it  the 
heart  of  the  transcendental  faith. 

The  influence  of  Schleiermacher  was  even  more  dis- 
tinct than  that  of  Herder.  One  book  of  his,  in  particular, 
made  a deep  impression, — the  “ Reden  liber  Religion,” 
published  in  1799.  The  book  is  thus  described  by  Mr. 
George  Ripley,  in  a controversial  letter  to  Mr.  Andrews 
Norton,  who  had  assailed  Schleiermacher  as  an  atheist. 
“ The  ‘ Discourses  on  Religion  ’ were  not  intended  to 
present  a system  of  theology.  They  are  highly  rhe- 
torical in  manner,  filled  with  bursts  of  impassioned  elo- 
quence, always  intense,  and  sometimes  extravagant  ; 
addressed  to  the  feelings,  not  to  speculation  ; and  ex- 
pressly disclaiming  all  pretensions  to  an  exposition  of 
doctrine.  They  were  published  at  a time  when  hostility 
to  religion,  and  especially  to  Christianity  as  a divine  reve- 
lation, rvas  deemed  a proof  of  talent  and  refinement. 
The  influence  of  the  church  was  nearly  exhausted  ; the 
highest  efforts  of  thought  were  of  a destructive  charac- 
ter ; a frivolous  spirit  pervaded  society  ; religion  was 
deprived  of  its  supremacy  ; and  a ‘starveling  theology’ 


THEOLOGY  AND  LITERATURE. 


49 


was  exalted  in  place  of  the  living  word.  Schleiermacher 
could  not  contemplate  the  wretched  meagreness  and 
degradation  of  his  age  without  being  moved  as  by  ‘ a 
heavenly  impulse.’  His  spirit  was  stirred  within  him  as 
he  saw  men  turning  from  the  true  God  to  base  idols. 
He  felt  himself  impelled  to  go  forth  with  the  power  of  a 
fresh  and  youthful  enthusiasm,  for  the  restoration  of  re- 
ligion ; to  present  it  in  its  most  sublime  aspect,  free  from 
its  perversions,  disentangled  from  human  speculation,  as 
founded  in  the  essential  nature  of  man,  and  indispensa- 
ble to  the  complete  unfolding  of  his  inward  being.  In 
order  to  recognize  everything  which  is  really  religious 
among  men,  and  to  admit  even  the  lowest  degree  of  it 
into  the  idea  of  religion,  he  wishes  to  make  this  as  broad 
and  comprehensive  in  its  character  as  possible.”  In 
illustration  of  this  purpose  Mr.  Ripley  quotes  the  author 
as  follows  : “I  maintain  that  piety  is  the  necessary  and 
spontaneous  product  of  the  depths  of  every  elevated 
nature  ; that  it  possesses  a rightful  claim  to  a peculiar 
province  in  the  soul,  over  which  it  may  exercise  an  un- 
limited sovereignty  ; that  it  is  worthy,  by  its  intrinsic 
power,  to  be  a source  of  life  to  the  most  noble  and  ex- 
alted minds  ; and  that  from  its  essential  character  it 
deserves  to  be  known  and  received  by  them.  These  are 
the  points  which  I defend,  and  which  I would  fain  estab- 
lish.” 

From  this  it  will  appear  that  Schleiermacher  gave 
countenance  to  the  spiritual  aspect  of  transcendentalism, 
and  co-operated  with  the  general  movement  it  repre- 
sented. His  position  that  religion  was  not  a system  of 
3 


5° 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


dogmas,  but  an  inward  experience  ; that  it  was  not  a 
speculation,  but  a feeling  ; that  its  primal  verities  rested 
not  on  miracle  or  tradition,  not  on  the  Bible  letter  or  on 
ecclesiastical  institution,  but  on  the  soul’s  own  sense  of 
things  divine  ; that  this  sense  belonged  by  nature  to  the 
human  race,  and  gave  to  all  forms  of  religion  such  genu- 
ineness as  they  had  ; that  all  affirmation  was  partial, 
and  all  definition  deceptive  ; proved  to  be  practically 
the  same  with  that  taken  by  Jacobi,  and  was  so  received 
by  the  disciples  of  the  new  philosophy. 

But  Schleiermacher  was  an  Evangelical  Lutheran,  a 
believer  in  supernatural  religion,  in  Christ,  in  Chris- 
tianity as  a special  dispensation,  in  the  miracles  of  the 
New  Testament.  So  far  from  being  a “ rationalist,” 
he  was  the  most  formidable  opponent  that  “ rational- 
ism ” had  ; for  his  efforts  were  directed  against  the 
critical  and  theological  method,  and  in  support  of  the 
spiritual  method  of  dealing  with  religious  truths.  In 
explaining  religion  as  being  in  its  primitive  character 
a sense  of  divine  things  in  the  soul,  and  as  having  its 
seat,  not  in  knowledge,  nor  yet  in  action,  neither 
in  theology  nor  in  morality,  but  in  feeling,  in  aspira- 
tion, longing,  love,  veneration,  conscious  dependence, 
filial  trust,  he  deprived  “rationalism”  of  its  strength. 
Hence  his  attraction  for  liberal  orthodox  believers  in 
’ America.  Schleiermacher  had  as  many  disciples  among 
the  Congregationalists  as  among  their  antagonists  of 
the  opposite  school.  Professors  Edwards  and  Park 
included  thoughts  of  his  in  their  “ Selections  from 
German  Literature.”  The  pulpit  transcendentalists 


THEOLOGY  AND  LITERATURE.  51 

acknowledged  their  indebtedness  to  him,  and  the  debt 
they  acknowledged  was  sentimental  rather  than  intel- 
lectual. They  thanked  him  for  the  spirit  of  fervent  piety, 
deep,  cordial,  human,  unlimited  in  generosity,  untram- 
melled by  logical  distinctions,  rather  than  for  new  light 
on  philosophical  problems.  His  bursts  of  eloquent  en- 
thusiasm over  men  whom  the  church  outlawed — Spinoza 
for  example — made  amends  with  them  for  the  absence 
of  doctrinal  exactness.  A warm  sympathy  with  those 
who  detached  religion  from  dogma,  and  recognized  the 
religious  sentiment  under  its  most  diverse  forms,  was 
characteristic  of  the  new  spirit  that  burned  in  New 
England.  Schleiermacher  was  one  of  the  first  and  fore- 
most to  encourage  such  sympathy  : he  based  it  on  the 
idea  that  man  was  by  nature  religious,  endowed  with 
spiritual  faculties,  and  that  was  welcome  tidings  ; and 
though  he  retained  the  essence  of  the  evangelical  system, 
he  retained  it  in  a form  that  could  be  dropped  without 
injury  to  the  principle  by  which  it  was  justified.  Thus 
Schleiermacher  strengthened  the  very  positions  he  as- 
sailed, and  gave  aid  and  comfort  to  the  enemy  he  would 
overthrow.  The  transcendentalists,  it  is  true,  employed 
against  the  “ rationalists  ” the  weapons  that  he  put  into 
their  hands.  At  the  same  time  they  left  as  unimportant 
the  theological  system  which  his  weapons  were  manu- 
factured to  support. 

But  it  was  through  the  literature  of  Germany  that  the 
transcendental  philosophy  chiefly  communicated  itself. 
Goethe,  Richter  and  Novalis  were  more  persuasive  teach- 
ers than  Kant,  Jacobi  or  Fichte.  To  those  who  could 


5 2 


TRANS  CENDENTA  L1SM. 


not  read  German  these  authors  were  interpreted  by 
Thomas  Carlyle,  who  took  up  the  cause  of  German  phi- 
losophy and  literature,  and  wrote  about  them  with  pas- 
sionate power  in  the  English  reviews;  not  contenting 
himself  with  giving  surface  accounts  of  them,  but  plung- 
ing boldly  into  the  depths,  and  carrying  his  readers  with 
him  through  discussions  that,  but  for  his  persuasive  elo- 
quence, would  have  had  little  charm  to  ordinary  minds. 
Goethe  and  Richter  were  his  heroes  : their  methods  and 
opinions  are  of  the  greatest  account  with  him  ; and  he 
leaves  nothing  unexplained  of  the  intellectual  foundations 
on  which  they  builded.  Consequently  in  the  remarkable 
papers  that  Carlyle  wrote  about  them  and  their  books, 
full  report  is  given  of  the  place  held  by  the  Kantean  phi- 
losophy in  their  culture.  The  article  on  Novalis,  in  the 
“ Foreign  Review”  of  1829,  No.  7,  presents  with  a mas- 
ter hand  the  peculiarities  of  the  new  metaphysics  that 
were  regenerating  the  German  mind.  Regenerating 
is  not  too  strong  a word  for  the  influence  that  he 
ascribes  to  it.  Thus  in  1827  he  wrote  in  the  “ Edinburgh 
Review : ” 

“The  critical  philosophy  has  been  regarded  by  per- 
sons of  approved  judgment,  and  nowise  directly  impli- 
cated in  the  furthering  of  it,  as  distinctly  the  greatest  in- 
tellectual achievement  of  the  century  in  which  it  came 
to  light.  August  Wilhelm  Schlegel  has  stated  in  plain 
terms  his  belief  that  in  respect  of  its  probable  influence 
on  the  moral  culture  of  Europe,  it  stands  on  a line  with 
the  Reformation.  We  mention  Schlegel  as  a man  whose 
opinion  has  a known  value  among  ourselves.  But  the 


THEOLOGY  AND  LITERATURE.  53 

worth  of  Kant’s  philosophy  is  not  to  be  gathered  from 
votes  alone.  The  noble  system  of  morality,  the  purer 
theology,  the  lofty  views  of  man’s  nature  derived  from 
it ; nay,  perhaps  the  very  discussion  of  such  matters,  to 
which  it  gave  so  strong  an  impetus,  have  told  with 
remarkable  and  beneficial  influence  on  the  whole  spiri- 
tual character  of  Germany.  No  writer  of  any  importance 
in  that  country,  be  he  acquainted  or  not  with  the  critical 
philosophy,  but  breathes  a spirit  of  devoutness  and  ele- 
vation more  or  less  directly  drawn  from  it.  Such  men 
as  Goethe  and  Schiller  cannot  exist  without  effect  in  any 
literature  or  any  century  ; but  if  one  circumstance  more 
than  another  has  contributed  to  forward  their  endeavors 
and  introduce  that  higher  tone  into  the  literature  of 
Germany,  it  has  been  this  philosophical  system,  to 
which,  in  wisely  believing  its  results,  or  even  in  wisely 
denying  them,  all  that  was  lofty  and  pure  in  the 
genius  of  poetry  or  the  reason  of  man  so  readily  allied 
itself.” 

After  quoting  from  “ Meister’s  Apprenticeship  ” a 
noble  passage  on  the  spiritual  function  of  art,  Carlyle 
comments  thus:  “To  adopt  such  sentiments  into  his 
sober  practical  persuasion  ; in  any  measure  to  feel  and 
believe  that  such  was  still  and  must  always  be,  the  high 
vocation  of  the  poet ; on  this  ground  of  universal  human- 
ity, of  ancient  and  now  almost  forgotten  nobleness,  to 
take  his  stand,  even  in  these  trivial,  jeering,  withered, 
unbelieving  days,  and  through  all  their  complex,  dispirit- 
ing, mean,  yet  tumultuous  influences,  to  make  his  light 
shine  before  men  that  it  might  beautify  even  our  rag- 


54 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


gathering  age  with  some  beams  of  that  mild  divine  splen- 
dor which  had  long  left  us,  the  very  possibility  of  which 
was  denied  ; heartily  and  in  earnest  to  meditate  all  this 
was  no  common  proceeding  ; to  bring  it  into  practice, 
especially  in  such  a life  as  his  has  been,  was  among  the 
highest  and  hardest  enterprises  which  any  man  whatever 
could  engage  in.” 

From  Schiller’s  correspondence  with  Goethe,  Carlyle 
quotes  the  following  tribute  to  the  Kantean  philosophy  : 
“ From  the  opponents  of  the  new  philosophy  I expect 
not  that  tolerance  which  is  shown  to  every  other  system 
no  better  seen  into  than  this  ; for  Kant’s  philosophy 
itself,  in  its  leading  points,  practises  no  tolerance,  and 
bears  much  too  rigorous  a character  to  leave  any  room 
for  accommodation.  But  in  my  eyes  this  does  it  honor, 
proving  how  little  it  can  endure  to  have  truth  tampered 
with.  Such  a philosophy  will  not  be  shaken  to  pieces 
by  a mere  shake  of  the  head.  In  the  open,  clear,  ac- 
cessible field  of  inquiry  it  builds  up  its  system,  seeks  no 
shade,  makes  no  reservation,  but  even  as  it  treats  its 
neighbors,  so  it  requires  to  be  treated,  and  may  be  for- 
given for  lightly  esteeming  everything  but  proofs.  Nor 
am  I terrified  to  think  that  the  law  of  change,  from 
which  no  human  and  no  divine  work  finds  grace,  will 
operate  on  this  philosophy  as  on  every  other,  and  one 
day  its  form  will  be  destroyed,  but  its  foundations  will  not 
have  this  fate  to  fear,  for  ever  since  mankind  has  existed, 
and  any  reason  among  mankind,  these  same  first  princi- 
ples have  been  admitted,  and  on  the  whole,  acted  on.” 

Of  Richter  he  writes  : “ Richter’s  philosophy,  a mat- 


THEOLOGY  AND  LITERATURE. 


55 


ter  of  no  ordinary  interest,  both  as  it  agrees  with  the 
common  philosophy  of  Germany,  and  disagrees  with  it, 
must  not  be  touched  on  for  the  present.  One  only  ob- 
servation we  shall  make  : it  is  not  mechanical  or  scep- 
tical ; it  springs  not  from  the  forum  or  the  laboratory, 
but  from  the  depths  of  the  human  spirit,  and  yields  as  its 
fairest  product  a noble  system  of  morality,’  and  the  firm- 
est conviction  of  religion.  An  intense  and  continual 
faith  in  man’s  immortality  and  native  grandeur  accom- 
panies him  ; from  amid  the  vortices  of  life  he  looks  up 
to  a heavenly  loadstar;  the  solution  of  what  is  visible 
and  transient,  he  finds  in  what  is  invisible  and  eternal. 
He  has  doubted,  he  denies,  yet  he  believes.” 

Of  Novalis,  scarcely  more  than  a name  to  Americans, 
the  same  oracle  speaks  thus  : “ The  aim  of  Novalis’ 
whole  philosophy  is  to  preach  and  establish  the  majesty 
of  reason,  in  the  strict  philosophical  sense  ; to  conquer 
for  it  all  provinces  of  human  thought,  and  everywhere 
resolve  its  vassal  understanding  into  fealty,  the  right  and 
only  useful  relation  for  it.  How  deeply  these  and  the 
like  principles  (those  of  the  Kantean  philosophy)  had 
impressed  themselves  on  Novalis,  we  see  more  and 
more  the  further  we  study  his  writings.  Naturally  a 
deep,  religious,  contemplative  spirit,  purified  also  by 
harsh  affliction,  and  familiar  in  the  ‘ Sanctuary  of  Sor- 
row,’ he  comes  before  us  as  the  most  ideal  of  all  idealists. 
For  him  the  material  creation  is  but  an  appearance,  a 
typical  shadow  in  which  the  Deity  manifests  himself  to 
man.  Not  only  has  the  unseen  world  a reality,  but  the 
only  reality;  the  rest  being  not  metaphorically,  but  liter- 


56 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


ally  and  in  scientific  strictness,  ‘ a show ; ’ in  the  words  of 
the  poet  : 

‘ Sound  and  smoke  overclouding  the  splendor  of  heaven!’ 

The  invisible  world  is  near  us  ; or  rather,  it  is  here,  in  us 
and  about  us  ; were  the  fleshly  coil  removed  from  our 
soul,  the  glories  of  the  unseen  were  even  now  around 
us,  as  the  ancients  fabled  of  the  spheral  music.  Thus, 
not  in  word  only,  but  in  truth  and  sober  belief  he  feels 
himself  encompassed  by  the  Godhead  ; feels  in  every 
thought  that  ‘ in  Him  he  lives,  moves,  and  has  his 
being.’  ” 

These  declarations  from  a man  who  was  becoming 
prominent  in  the  world  of  literature,  and  whose  papers 
were  widely  and  enthusiastically  read,  had  great  weight 
with  people  to  whom  the  German  was  an  unknown 
tongue.  But  it  was  not  an  unknown  tongue  to  all,  and 
they  who  had  mastered  it  were  active  communicators  of 
its  treasures.  Carlyle’s  efforts  at  interesting  English 
readers  through  his  remarkable  translation  of  Wilhelm 
Meister,  and  the  “ Specimens  of  German  Romance,” 
which  contained  pieces  by  Tieck,  Jean  Paul,  Hoffmann, 
and  Musaeus,  published  in  1827,  were  seconded  here 
by  F.  H.  Hedge,  C.  T.  Brooks,  J.  S.  Dwight,  and 
others,  who  made  familiar  to  the  American  public  the 
choicest  poems  of  the  most  famous  German  bards. 
Richter  became  well  known  by  his  “ Autobiography,” 
“ Quintus  Fixlein,”  “ Flower,  Fruit,  and  Thorn  Pieces,” 
“Hesperus,”  “Titan,”  “The  Campaner  Thai,”  the 
writings  and  versions  of  Madame  de  Stael.  The  third 


THEOLOGY  AND  LITERATURE. 


57 


volume  of  the  “ Dial,”  July,  1841,  opened  with  a re- 
markable paper  on  Goethe,  by  Margaret  Fuller.  The 
pages  of  the  “ Dial  ” abounded  in  references  to  Goethe’s 
ideas  and  writings.  No  author  occupied  the  cultivated 
New  England  mind  as  much  as  he  did.  None  of  these 
writers  taught  formally  the  doctrines  of  the  transcenden- 
tal philosophy,  but  they  reflected  one  or  another  aspect 
of  it.  They  assumed  its  cardinal  principles  in  historical 
and  literary  criticism,  in  dramatic  art,  in  poetry  and 
romance.  They  conveyed  its  spirit  of  aspiration  after 
ideal  standards  of  perfection.  They  caught  from  it  their 
judgments  on  society  and  religion.  They  communicated 
its  aroma,  and  so  imparted  the  quickening  breath  of  its 
soul  to  people  who  would  have  started  back  in  alarm 
from  its  doctrines. 

The  influence  of  the  transcendental  philosophy  on  Ger- 
man literature  was  fully  conceded  by  Menzel,  who,  how- 
ever, found  little  trace  of  it  in  Goethe.  Of  the  author 
of  the  philosophy  he  wrote  : “ Kant  was  very  far  from 
assenting  to  French  infidelity  and  its  immoral  conse- 
quences. He  directed  man  to  himself,  to  the  moral  law 
in  his  own  bosom  ; and  the  fresh  breath  of  life  of  the  old 
Grecian  dignity  of  man  penetrates  the  whole  of  his  lumi- 
nous philosophy.”  Of  Goethe  he  wrote  : “If  he  ever 
acknowledged  allegiance  to  a good  spirit,  to  great  ideas, 
to  virtue,  he  did  it  only  because  they  had  become 
the  order  of  the  day,  for,  on  the  other  hand,  he  has, 
again,  served  every  weakness,  vanity  and  folly,  if  they 
were  but  looked  on  with  favor  at  the  time  ; in  short,  like 
a good  player,  he  has  gone  through  all  the  parts.” 

3* 


5§ 


TUANS  CENDENTALISM. 


Menzel’s  book  was  translated  by  a man  who  had  no  sym- 
pathy with  Transcendentalism — Prof.  C.  C.  Felton  ; was 
admired  by  people  of  his  own  school,  and  was  sharply 
criticised,  especially  in  the  portions  relating  to  Goethe, 
by  the  transcendentalists,  who  accepted  Carlyle’s  view. 
He  and  they  put  the  most  generous  interpretations  on 
the  masterpieces  of  the  poet,  passed  by  as  incidental,  did 
not  see,  or  in  their  own  mind  transfigured,  the  objec- 
tionable features  that  Menzel  seized  on.  Too  little  was 
ascribed  to  the  foreign  French  element  that  reached  the 
literature  of  Germany  through  Prussia — to  Rousseau, 
Voltaire,  Diderot — whose  ideas  fell  in  with  the  unworthier 
sceptical  tendencies  of  the  Kantean  system,  and  polluted 
the  waters  of  that  clear,  cold  stream  ; too  much  was 
ascribed  to  the  noble  idealism  that  was  credited  with 
power  to  glorify  all  it  touched,  and  redeem  even  low 
things  from  degradation.  If  therefore  they  apologized 
for  what  the  sensational  moralists  blamed,  they  did  it  in 
good  faith,  not  as  excusing  the  indecency,  but  as  sur- 
mounting it.  What  they  admired  was  the  art,  and  the 
aspiration  it  expressed.  The  devotees  of  the.  French 
spirit,  in  its  frivolity  and  meretricious  beauty,  they 
turned  away  from  with  disdain.  There  was  enough  of 
the  nobler  kind  to  engage  them.  When  they  went  to 
France  they  went  for  what  France  had  in  common  with 
Germany — an  idealism  of  the  wholesome,  ethical  and 
spiritual  type,  which,  whether  German,  French  or  Eng- 
lish, bore  always  the  same  characteristics  of  beauty  and 
nobleness.  Much  that  was  unspiritual,  all  that  was 
merely  speculative,  they  passed  by.  With  an  appetite 


THEOLOGY  AND  LITERATURE. 


59 


for  the  generous  and  inspiring  only,  they  sought  the 
really  earnest  teachers,  of  whom  in  France  there  were  a 
few.  The  influence  of  those  few  was  great  in  proportion 
to  their  fewness  probably,  quite  as  much  as  to  their  merit 
as  philosophers. 


IV. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  FRANCE. 

FROM  the  time  of  Malebranche,  who  died  in  1715,  to 
Maine  de  Biran,  Royer-Collard,  Ampere  and  Cousin, 
a period  of  about  a century,  philosophy  in  France  had 
not  borne  an  honorable  name.  The  French  mind  was 
active  ; philosophy  was  a profession  ; the  philosophical 
world  was  larger  than  in  Germany,  where  it  was  limited 
to  the  Universities.  But  France  took  no  lead  in  specu- 
lation, it  waited  to  receive  impulse  from  other  lands  ; 
and  even  then,  instead  of  taking  up  the  impulse  and 
carrying  it  on  with  original  and  sympathetic  force,  it 
was  content  to  exhibit  and  reproduce  it.  The  office  of 
expositor,  made  easy  by  the  perspicacity  of  its  intellect 
and  the  flexibility  of  its  language,  was  accepted  and 
discharged  with  a cleverness  that  was  recognized  by 
all  Europe.  Its  histories  of  philosophy,  translations, 
expositions,  reproductions,  were  admirable  for  neatness 
and  clearness.  The  most  obscure  systems  became  intel- 
ligible in  that  limpid  and  lucid  speech,  which  reported 
with  faultless  dexterity  the  agile  movements  of  the 
Gallic  mind,  and  made  popular  the  most  abstruse  doc- 
trines of  metaphysics.  German  philosophy  in  its  origi- 
nal dress  was  outlandish,  even  to  practised  students  in 
German.  The  readers  of  French  were  many  in  Eng- 


FRANCE. 


61 

land  and  the  United  States,  and  the  readers  of  French, 
without  severe  labor  on  their  part,  were  put  in  posses- 
sion of  the  essential  ideas  of  the  deep  thinkers  of  the 
race.  The  best  accounts  of  human  speculation  are  in 
French.  Barthelemy  Saint  FTilaire  interprets  Aristotle, 
and  throws  important  light  on  Indian  Philosophy ; 
Bouillet  translates  Plotinus  ; Emil  Saisset  translates 
Spinoza;  Tissot  and  Jules  Barni  perform  the  same 
service  for  Kant  ; Jules  Simon  and  Etienne  Vacherot 
undertake  to  make  intelligible  the  School  of  Alex- 
andria ; Paul  Janet  explains  the  dialectics  of  Plato ; 
Adolphe  Franck  deals  with  the  Jewish  Kabbala  ; Charles 
de  Remusat  with  Anselm,  Abelard  and  Bacon  ; MM. 
Haureau  and  Rousselot  with  the  philosophy  of  the 
middle  age  ; M.  Chauvet  with  the  theories  of  the 
human  understanding  in  antiquity.  Cousin  published 
unedited  works  of  Proclus,  analyzed  the  commentaries 
of  Olympiodorus  on  the  Platonic  dialogues,  made  a com- 
plete translation  of  Plato,  admirable  for  clearness  and 
strength,  and  proposed  to  present,  not  of  course  with 
his  own  hand,  but  by  the  hands  of  friendly  fellow-work- 
ers, and  under  his  own  direction,  examples  of  whatever 
was  best  in  every  philosophical  system.  The  philosoph- 
ical work  of  France  is  ably  summed  up  in  the  report  on 
“ Philosophy  in  France  in  the  nineteenth  century,”  pre- 
sented by  Felix  Ravaisson,  member  of  the  Institute,  and 
published  in  1868,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Ministry  of 
Public  Instruction. 

The  ideas  of  Focke  were  brought  from  Fondon  to 
Paris  by  Voltaire,  who  became  acquainted  with  them 


6 2 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


during  a residence  in  England,  and  found  them  effective 
in  his  warfare  against  the  ecclesiastical  institutions  of  his 
country.  Through  his  brilliant  interpretations  and  keen 
applications,  they  gained  currency,  became  fashionable 
among  the  wits,  were  domesticated  with  people  of  cul- 
ture and  elegance,  and  worked  their  way  into  the 
religion  and  politics  of  the  time.  It  is  needless  to  say 
that  in  his  hands  full  justice  was  done  to  their  external 
and  material  aspects. 

The  system  found  a more  exact  and  methodical  ex- 
pounder in  Condillac,  who  reduced  it  to  greater  simpli- 
city by  eliminating  from  it  what  in  the  original  marred 
its  unity,  namely  reflection,  the  bent  of  the  mind  back 
on  itself,  whereby  it  took  cognizance  of  impressions 
made  by  the  outer  world.  Taking  what  remained  of 
the  system,  the  notion  that  all  knowledge  came  primarily 
through  the  senses,  and  drawing  the  conclusion  that 
the  mind  itself  was  a product  of  sensation,  Condillac 
fashioned  a doctrine  which  had  the  merit,  such  as  it  was, 
of  utter  intelligibleness  to  the  least  instructed  mind  ; 
a system  of  materialism  naked  and  unadorned.  If  he 
himself  forbore  to  push  his  principle  to  its  extreme  re- 
sults, declining  to  assert  that  we  were  absolutely  nothing 
else  than  products  of  sensation,  and  surmising  that  be- 
neath the  layers  of  intelligence  and  reason  there  might 
lurk  a principle  that  sensation  could  not  account  for, 
something  stable  in  the  midst  of  the  ceaseless  instability, 
something  absolute  below  everything  relative,  which 
might  be  called  action  or  will,  the  popular  interpreta- 
tion of  his  philosophy  took  no  account  of  such  subtleties. 


FRANCE. 


63 


In  vain  did  his  disciple  Destutt  de  Tracy  declare  that 
“ the  principle  of  movement  is  the  will,  and  that  the  will 
is  the  person,  the  man  himself.”  The  fascination  of 
simplicity  proved  more  than  a match  for  nicety  of  dis- 
tinction, and  both  were  ranked  among  materialists. 

Cabanis  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal  the  most  repulsive 
features  of  the  system.  In  his  work,  “ The  Relations  of 
the  Physical  and  the  Moral  in  Man,”  he  maintained 
bluntly  the  theory  that  there  was  no  spiritual  being 
apart  from  the  body;  that  mind  had  no  substance,  no 
separate  existence  of  its  own,  but  was  in  all  its  parts  and 
qualities  a product  of  the  nervous  system  ; that  sensi- 
bility of  every  kind,  sentimental,  intelligent,  moral, 
spiritual,  including  the  whole  domain  of  conscious  and 
unconscious  vitality,  was  a nervous  manifestation  ; that 
man  was  capable  of  sensation  because  he  had  nerves  ; that 
he  was  what  he  was  because  of  the  wondrous  character 
of  the  mechanism  of  sensation  ; that,  in  a word,  the  per- 
fection of  organization  was  the  perfection  of  humanity. 
It  was  Cabanis  who  said  “ the  brain  secretes  thought 
as  the  liver  secretes  bile.”  Cabanis  modified  his  phi- 
losophy before  his  death,  but  without  effect  to  break 
the  force  of  his  cardinal  positions.  The  results  of  such 
teaching  appeared  in  a morality  of  selfishness,  tending  to 
self-indulgence — a morality  destitute  of  nobleness  and 
sweetness,  summing  up  its  lessons  in  the  maxims  that 
good  is  good  to  eat ; that  the  pleasurable  thing  is  right, 
the  painful  thing  wrong  ; that  success  is  the  measure  of 
rectitude  ; that  the  aim  of  life  is  the  attainment  of  hap- 
piness, and  that  happiness  means  physical  enjoyment , 


6 4 


TRANS  CENDENTALISM. 


that  virtue  and  vice  are  names  for  prudence  and  for 
folly, — Virtue  being  conformity  with  the  ways  of  the 
world,  Vice  being  non-conformity  with  the  ways  of  the 
world  ; no  ideal  standard  being  recognized  for  the  one, 
no  law  of  rectitude  being  confessed  for  the  other. 
Conscience  was  regarded  as  an  artificial  habit  created 
by  custom  or  acquiesced  in  from  tradition;  the  “ cate- 
gorical imperative  ” was  pronounced  the  dogmatism  of 
the  fanatic. 

From  such  principles  atheism  naturally  proceeded. 
Atheism  not  of  opinion  merely,  but  of  sentiment  and 
feeling  ; for  at  that  time  “ the  potencies  ” of  matter  im- 
pressed no  such  awe  upon  the  mind  as  they  have  done 
since  ; the  “ mystery  of  matter  ” was  unfelt ; physiology 
was  an  unexplored  region  ; the  materialist  simply  denied 
spirit,  putting  a blank  where  believers  in  religion  had 
been  used  to  find  a soul  ; and  had  no  alternative  but  to 
run  sensationalism  into  sensualism,  and  to  give  the  senses 
the  flavor  of  the  ground.  With  us  the  sensational  philos- 
ophy has  become  refined  into  a philosophy  of  experi- 
ence, and  the  materialist  finds  himself  in  a region  where 
to  distinguish  between  matter  and  spirit  is  difficult,  to  say 
the  least.  But  a hundred  years  ago  matter  was  clod, 
and  the  passion  it  engendered  smelt  of  the  charnel-house. 
The  morbid  insanities  of  the  revolution,  the  orgies  in 
which  blood  and  wine  ran  together,  the  savage  glee,  the 
delirium  that  ensued  when  the  uncertainty  of  life  acting 
on  the  impulse  to  enjoy  life  while  it  lasted,  made  men 
ferocious  in  clutching  at  immediate  pleasure,  attest  the 
consequences  that  ensued  from  such  frank  adoption  of 


FRANCE. 


65 


the  sensational  philosophy  as  was  practised  among  the 
French.  Locke  was  a man  of  piety,  which  even  his 
warmest  apologists  will  hardly  claim  for  Voltaire.  The 
English  mind,  grave  and  thoughtful,  trained  by  religious 
institutions  in  religious  beliefs,  was  less  inclined  than  the 
French  to  drive  speculative  theories  to  extreme  conclu- 
sions. The  philosophy  of  sensationalism  culminated, 
notin  the  French  Revolution,  as  has  been  vulgarly  as- 
serted, but  in  the  unbelief  and  sensual  extravagance  that 
marked  one  phase  of  it. 

In  this  there  was  nothing  original  ; there  was  no  origi- 
nality in  the  reaction  that  followed,  and  gave  to  modern 
philosophy  in  France  its  spiritual  character.  Laromi- 
guiere,  educated  in  the  school  of  Condillac,  improved  on 
the  suggestion  that  Condillac  had  given,  and  deepened 
into  a chasm  the  scratch  he  had  made  to  indicate  a dis- 
tinction between  the  results  of  sensation  and  the  facul- 
ties of  the  mind.  In  his  analysis  of  the  mental  consti- 
tution he  came  upon  two  facts  that  denoted  an  original 
activity  in  advance  of  sensation — namely,  attention  and 
desire  : the  former  the  root  of  the  intellectual,  the  latter 
of  the  moral  powers  ; both  at  last  resolvable  into  one 
principle — attention.  This  discovery  met  with  wide  and 
cordial  welcome,  the  popularity  of  Laromiguiere’s  lec- 
tures, delivered  in  1811,  1812,  1813,  revealing  the  fact 
that  thoughtful  people  were  prepared  for  a new  meta- 
physical departure. 

Maine  de  Biran,  who  more  than  the  rest  deserves  the 
name  of  an  original  investigator,  a severe,  solitary,  inde- 
pendent thinker,  pupil  of  no  school  and  founder  of  none, 


66 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


brought  into  strong  relief  the  activity  of  the  intellect. 
Thought,  he  maintained,  proceeds  from  will,  which  is  at 
the  base  of  the  personality,  is,  in  fact,  the  essence  of 
personality.  The  primary  fact  is  volition.  Descartes 
said,  “ I think,  therefore  I am.”  Maine  de  Biran  said,  “I 
will,  therefore  I am.”  “ In  every  one  of  my  determi- 
nations,” he  declared,  “ I recognize  myself  as  being  a 
cause  anterior  to  its  effect  and  capable  of  surviving  it.  I 
behold  myself  as  outside  of  the  movement  I produce, 
and  independent  of  time  ; for  this  reason,  strictly  speak- 
ing, I do  not  become,  I really  and  absolutely  am."  M To 
be,  to  act,  to  will,  are  the  same  thing  under  different 
names.”  Will  as  the  seat  of  activity;  will  as  the  core  of 
personality  ; will  as  the  soul  of  causation  : here  is  the 
corner-stone  for  a new  structure  to  replace  the  old  one  of 
the  “ Cyclopaedists.”  Important  deductions  followed  from 
such  a first  principle  ; the  dignity  of  the  moral  being, 
freedom  of  the  moral  will,  the  nobility  of  existence,  the 
persistency  of  the  individual  as  a ground  for  continuous 
effort  and  far-reaching  hope,  the  spirituality  of  man  and 
his  destiny.  To  recover  the  will  from  the  mass  of  sen- 
sations that  had  buried  it  out  of  sight,  was  the  achieve- 
ment of  this  philosopher.  It  was  an  achievement  by 
which  philosophy  was  disengaged  from  physics,  and  sent 
forth  on  a more  cheerful  way. 

The  next  steps  were  taken  by  disciples  of  the  Scotch 
school — Royer-Collard,  Victor  Cousin  and  Theodore 
Jouffroy.  The  last  translated  Reid  and  Stewart  from 
English  into  French  ; the  two  former  lectured  on  them. 
The  three,  being  masters  of  clear  and  persuasive  speech, 


FRANCE. 


6 7 


made  their  ideas  popular  in  France.  Cousin’s  lectures 
on  the  Scotch  school,  including  Reid,  were  delivered  in 
1819.  The  lectures  on  Kant  were  given  in  1820.  Both 
courses  were  full  and  adequate.  Cousin  committed  him- 
self to  neither,  but  freely  criticised  both,  laying  stress  on 
the  sceptical  aspect  of  the  transcendental  system  as 
expounded  by  Kant. 

Cousin’s  own  system  was  the  once  famous,  now  dis- 
carded eclecticism,  under  cover  of  which  another  phase 
of  idealism  was  presented  which  found  favor  in  America. 
The  cardinal  principle  of  eclecticism  was  that  truth  was 
contained  in  no  system  or  group  of  systems,  but  in  all 
together  ; that  each  had  its  portion  and  made  its  contri- 
bution ; and  that  the  true  philosophy  would  be  reached 
by  a process  of  intellectual  distillation  by  which  the  es- 
sential truth  in  each  would  be  extracted.  A method 
like  this  would  have  nothing  to  recommend  it  but  its 
generosity,  if  there  were  no  criterion  by  which  truths 
could  be  tested,  no  philosophical  principle,  in  short, 
to  govern  the  selection  of  materials.  Eclecticism  must 
have  a philosophy  before  proceeding  to  make  one,  must 
have  arrived  at  its  conclusion  before  entering  on  its 
process.  And  this  it  did.  It  will  be  seen  by  the  following 
extracts  from  his  writings  what  the  fundamental  ideas  of 
M.  Cousin  were,  and  in  what  respect  they  aided  the 
process  of  rationalism. 

The  quotations  are  from  his  exposition  of  eclecticism  : 

“ Facts  are  the  point  of  departure,  if  not  the  limit  of 
philosophy.  Now  facts,  whatever  they  may  be,  exist 
for  us  only  as  they  come  to  our  consciousness.  It  is 


68 


TR.  INS  CENDENTALISM. 


there  alone  that  observation  seizes  them  and  describes 
them,  before  committing  them  to  induction,  which 
forces  them  to  reveal  the  consequences  which  they  con- 
tain in  their  bosom.  The  field  of  philosophical  obser- 
vation is  consciousness  ; there  is  no  other ; but  in  this 
nothing  is  to  be  neglected  ; everything  is  important,  for 
everything  is  connected  ; and  if  one  part  be  wanting, 
complete  unity  is  unattainable.  To  return  within  our 
consciousness,  and  scrupulously  to  study  all  the  phe- 
nomena, their  differences  and  their  relations — this  is  the 
primary  study  of  philosophy.  Its  scientific  name  is 
psychology.  Psychology  is  then  the  condition  and,  as 
it  were,  the  vestibule  of  philosophy.  The  psychological 
method  consists  in  completely  retiring  within  the  world 
of  consciousness,  in  order  to  become  familiar  in  that 
sphere  where  all  is  reality,  but  where  the  reality  is  so 
various  and  so  delicate  ; and  the  psychological  talent  con- 
sists in  placing  ourselves  at  will  within  this  interior  world, 
in  presenting  the  spectacle  there  displayed  to  ourselves, 
and  in  reproducing  freely  and  distinctly  all  the  facts 
which  are  accidentally  and  confusedly  brought  to  our 
notice  by  the  circumstances  of  life.”  . . . . . 

“ The  first  duty  of  the  psychological  method  is  to  re- 
tire within  the  field  of  consciousness,  where  there  is 
nothing  but  phenomena,  that  are  all  capable  of  being 
perceived  and  judged  by  observation.  Now  as  no  sub- 
stantial existence  falls  under  the  eye  of  consciousness,  it 
follows  that  the  first  effect  of  a rigid  application  of  method 
is  to  postpone  the  subject  of  ontology.  It  postpones  it, 
I say,  but  does  not  destroy  it.  It  is  a fact,  indeed, 
attested  by  observation,  that  in  this  same  consciousness, 
in  which  there  is  nothing  but  phenomena,  there  are  found 
notions,  whose  regular  development  passes  the  limits  of 
consciousness  and  attains  the  knowledge  of  actual  ex- 
istences. Would  you  stop  the  development  of  these 
notions  ? You  would  then  arbitrarily  limit  the  compass 
of  a fact,  you  would  attack  this  fact  itself,  and  thus  shake 
the  authority  of  all  other  facts.  We  must  either  call  in 


FRANCE. 


fi9 


question  the  authority  of  consciousness  in  itself,  or  admit 
this  authority  without  reserve  for  all  the  facts  attested  by 
consciousness.  The  reason  is  no  less  certain  and  real 
than  the  will  or  the  sensibility  ; its  certainty  once  admitted 
we  must  follow  it  wherever  it  rigorously  conducts,  though 
it  be  even  into  the  depths  of  ontology.  For  example, 
it  is  a rational  fact  attested  by  consciousness,  that  in  the 
view  of  intelligence,  every  phenomenon  which  is  pre- 
sented supposes  a cause.  It  is  a fact,  moreover,  that 
this  principle  of  causality  is  marked  with  the  character- 
istics of  universality  and  necessity.  If  it  be  universal 
and  necessary,  to  limit  it  would  be  to  destroy  it. 
Now  in  the  phenomenon  of  sensation,  the  principle 
of  causality  intervenes  universally  and  necessarily, 
and  refers  this  phenomenon  to  a cause  ; and  our 
consciousness  testifying  that  this  cause  is  not  the 
personal  cause  which  the  will  represents,  it  follows  that 
the  principle  of  causality  in  its  irresistible  application 
conducts  to  an  impersonal  cause,  that  is  to  say,  to  an 
external  cause,  which  subsequently,  and  always  irresisti- 
bly, the  principle  of  causality  enriches  with  the  charac- 
teristics and  laws,  of  which  the  aggregate  is  the  Universe. 
Here  then  is  an  existence  ; but  an  existence  revealed  by 
a principle  which  is  itself  attested  by  consciousness. 
Here  is  a primary  step  in  ontology,  but  by  the  path  of 
psychology,  that  is  to  say,  of  observation.  We  are  led 
by  similar  processes  to  the  Cause  of  all  causes,  to  the 
substantial  Cause,  to  God  ; and  not  only  to  a God  of 
Power,  but  to  a God  of  Justice,  a God  of  Holiness  ; so 
that  this  experimental  method,  which,  applied  to  a 
single  order  of  phenomena,  incomplete  and  exclusive, 
destroyed  ontology  and  the  higher  elements  of  con- 
sciousness, applied  with  fidelity,  firmness  and  complete- 
ness, to  all  the  phenomena,  builds  up  that  which  it  had 
overthrown,  and  by  itself  furnishes  ontology  with  a sure 
and  legitimate  instrument.  Thus,  having  commenced 
with  modesty,  we  can  end  with  results  whose  certainty 
is  equalled  by  their  importance.” 


7o 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


“ What  physical  inquirer,  since  Euler,  seeks  anything 
in  nature  but  forces  and  laws  ? Who  now  speaks  of 
atoms  ? And  even  molecules,  the  old  atoms  revived — 
who  defends  them  as  anything  but  an  hypothesis  ? If  the 
fact  be  incontestable,  if  modern  physics  be  now  employed 
only  with  forces  and  laws,  I draw  the  rigorous  conclusion 
from  it,  that  the  science  of  Physics,  whether  it  know  it 
or  not,  is  no  longer  material,  and  that  it  became  spiritual 
when  it  rejected  every  other  method  than  observation 
and  induction,  which  can  never  lead  to  aught  but  forces 
and  laws.  Now  what  is  there  material  in  forces  and  laws  ? 
The  physical  sciences,  then,  themselves  have  entered  into 
the  broad  path  of  an  enlightened  spiritualism  ; and  they 
have  only  to  march  with  a firm  step,  and  to  gain  a more 
and  more  profound  knowledge  of  forces  and  laws,  in 
order  to  arrive  at  more  important  generalizations.  Let 
us  go  still  further.  As  it  is  a law  already  recognized  of 
the  same  reason  which  governs  humanity  and  nature,  to 
refer  every  finite  cause  and  every  multiple  law — that  is 
to  say,  every  phenomenal  cause  and  every  phenomenal 
law — to  something  absolute,  which  leaves  nothing  to 
be  sought  beyond  it  in  relation  to  existence,  that  is  to 
say,  to  a substance  ; so  this  law  refers  the  external 
world  composed  of  forces  and  laws  to  a substance,  which 
must  needs  be  a cause  in  order  to  be  the  subject  of  the 
causes  of  this  world,  which  must  needs  be  an  intelligence 
in  order  to  be  the  subject  of  its  laws  ; a substance,  in  fine, 
which  must  needs  be  the  identity  of  activity  and  intelli- 
gence. We  have  thus  arrived  accordingly,  for  the 
second  time,  by  observation  and  induction  in  the  exter- 
nal sphere,  at  precisely  the  same  point  to  which  observa- 
tion and  induction  have  successively  conducted  us  in  the 
sphere  of  personality  and  in  that  of  reason  ; conscious- 
ness in  its  triplicity  is  therefore  one  ; the  physical  and 
moral  world  is  one,  science  is  one,  that  is  to  say,  in 

other  words,  God  is  One.” 

“ Having  gained  these  heights,  philosophy  becomes 
more  luminous  as  well  as  more  grand  ; universal  har- 


FRANCE. 


V 

mony  enters  into  human  thought,  enlarges  it,  and  gives 
it  peace.  The  divorce  of  ontology  and  psychology,  of 
speculation  and  observation,  of  science  and  common- 
sense,  is  brought  to  an  end  by  a method  which  arrives 
at  speculation  by  observation,  at  ontology  by  psychology, 
in  order  then  to  confirm  observation  by  speculation, 
psychology  by  ontology,  and  which  starting  from  the 
immediate  facts  of  consciousness,  of  which  the  common- 
sense  of  the  human  race  is  composed,  derives  from  them 
the  science  which  contains  nothing  more  than  common- 
sense,  but  which  elevates  that  to  its  purest  and  most  rigid 
form,  and  enables  it  to  comprehend  itself.  But  I here 
approach  a fundamental  point. 

“ If  every  fact  of  consciousness  contains  all  the  human 
faculties,  sensibility,  free  activity,  and  reason,  the  me, 
the  not-me,  and  their  absolute  identity  ; and  if  every 
fact  of  consciousness  be  equal  to  itself,  it  follows  that 
every  man  who  has  the  consciousness  of  himself  possesses 
and  cannot  but  possess  all  the  ideas  that  are  necessarily 
contained  in  consciousness.  Thus  every  man,  if  he 
knows  himself,  knows  all  the  rest,  nature  and  God  at  the 
same  time  with  himself.  Every  man  believes  in  his  own 
existence,  every  man  therefore  believes  in  the  exist- 
ence of  the  world  and  of  God  ; every  man  thinks,  every 
man  therefore  thinks  God,  if  we  may  so  express  it  ; 
every  human  proposition,  reflecting  the  consciousness, 
reflects  the  idea  of  unity  and  of  being  that  is  essential  to 
consciousness  ; every  human  proposition  therefore  con- 
tains God  ; every  man  who  speaks,  speaks  of  God,  and 
every  word  is  an  act  of  faith  and  a hymn.  Atheism  is  a 
barren  formula,  a negation  without  reality,  an  abstrac- 
tion of  the  mind  which  cannot  assert  itself  without  self- 
destruction  ; for  every  assertion,  even  though  negative, 
is  a judgment  which  contains  the  idea  of  being,  and, 
consequently,  God  in  His  fulness.  Atheism  is  the  illu- 
sion of  a few  sophists,  who  place  their  liberty  in  opposi- 
tion to  their  reason,  and  are  unable  even  to  give  an  ac- 
count to  themselves  of  what  they  think  ; but  the  human 


72 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


race,  which  is  never  false  to  its  consciousness  and  never 
places  itself  in  contradiction  to  its  laws,  possesses  the 
knowledge  of  God,  believes  in  him,  and  never  ceases  to 
proclaim  Him.  In  fact,  the  human  race  believes  in  rea- 
son and  camvot  but  believe  in  it,  in  that  reason  which  is 
manifested  in  consciousness,  in  a momentary  relation 
with  the  me — the  pure  though  faint  reflection  of  that 
primitive  light  which  flows  from  the  bosom  of  the 
eternal  substance,  which  is  at  once  substance,  cause, 
intelligence.  Without  the  manifestation  of  reason  in  our 
consciousness,  there  could  be  no  knowledge — neither 
psychological,  nor,  still  less,  ontological.  Reason  is,  in 
some  sort,  the  bridge  between  psychology  and  ontology, 
between  consciousness  and  being  ; it  rests  at  the  same 
time  on  both  ; it  descends  from  God  and  approaches 
man  ; it  makes  its  appearance  in  the  consciousness,  as  a 
guest  who  brings  intelligence  of  an  unknown  world  of 
which  it  at  once  presents  the  idea  and  awakens  the  want. 
If  reason  were  personal,  it  would  have  no  value,  no 
authority,  beyond  the  -limits  of  the  individual  subject. 
If  it  remained  in  the  condition  of  primitive  substance, 
without  manifestation,  it  would  be  the  same  for 
the  me  which  would  not  know  itself,  as  if  it  were 
not.  It  is  necessary  therefore  that  the  intelligent  sub- 
stance should  manifest  itself ; and  this  manifestation  is 
the  appearance  of  reason  in  the  consciousness.  Reason 
then  is  literally  a revelation,  a necessary  and  universal 
revelation,  which  is  wanting  to  no  man  and  which 
enlightens  every  man  on  his  coming  into  the  world  : 
illuminat  omnein  hominetn  venientem  in  linuc  mundinn. 
Reason  is  the  necessary  mediator  between  God  and  man, 
the  A.070?  of  Pythagoras  and  Plato,  the  Word  made  flesh 
which  serves  as  the  interpreter  of  God  and  the  teacher 
of  man,  divine  and  human  at  the  same  time.  It  is  not, 
indeed,  the  absolute  God  in  his  majestic  individuality, 
but  his  manifestation  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ; it  is  not  the 
Being  of  beings,  but  it  is  the  revealed  God  of  the  human 
race.  As  God  is  never  wanting  to  the  human  race  and 


FRANCE. 


73 


never  abandons  it,  so  the  human  race  believes  in  God 
with  an  irresistible  and  unalterable  faith,  and  this  unity 
of  faith  is  its  own  highest  unity 

“If  these  convictions  of  faith  be  combined  in  every 
act  of  consciousness,  and  if  consciousness  be  one  in  the 
whole  human  race,  whence  arises  the  prodigious  diversity 
which  seems  to  exist  between  man  and  man,  and  in  what 
does  this  diversity  consist  ? In  truth,  when  we  perceive 
at  first  view  so  many  apparent  differences  between  one 
individual  and  another,  one  country  and  another,  one 
epoch  of  humanity  and  another,  we  feel  a profound 
emotion  of  melancholy,  and  are  tempted  to  regard  an 
intellectual  development  so  capricious,  and  even  the 
whole  of  humanity,  as  a phenomenon  without  consistency, 
without  grandeur,  and  without  interest.  But  it  is  demon- 
strated by  a more  attentive  observation  of  facts,  that  no 
man  is  a stranger  to  either  of  the  three  great  ideas  which 
constitute  consciousness,  namely,  personality  or  the 
liberty  of  man,  impersonality  or  the  necessity  of  nature, 
and  the  providence  of  God.  Every  man  comprehends 
these  three  ideas  immediately,  because  he  found  them 
at  first  and  constantly  finds  them  again  within  himself. 
The  exceptions  to  this  fact,  by  their  small  number,  by 
the  absurdities  which  they  involve,  by  the  difficulties 
which  they  create,  serve  only  to  exhibit,  in  a still  clearer 
light,  the  universality  of  faith  in  the  human  race,  the 
treasure  of  good  sense  deposited  in  truth,  and  the  peace 
and  happiness  that  there  are  for  a human  soul  in  not  dis- 
carding the  convictions  of  its  kind.  Leave  out  the  ex- 
ceptions which  appear  from  time  to  time  in  certain 
critical  periods  uf  history,  and  you  will  perceive  that  the 
masses  which  alone  have  true  existence,  always  and 
everywhere  live  in  the  same  faith,  of  which  the  forms  only 
vary.” 

These  somewhat  too  copious  extracts  have  been  pur- 
posely taken  from  the  first  volume  of  the  “ Specimens  of 
Foreign  Standard  Literature,”  edited  by  George  Ripley 
in  1838,  rather  than  from  the  collected  writings  of 

4 


74 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Cousin,  because  they  show  what  a leading  New  England 
transcendentalist  thought  most  important  in  the  teaching 
of  the  French  school.  His  own  estimate  of  the  philos- 
ophy and  his  expectations  from  it  may  be  learned  from 
the  closing  passages  of  the  introduction  to  that  volume: 

“ The  objects  at  which  Mr.  Coleridge  aims,  it  seems  to 
me,  are  in  a great  measure  accomplished  by  the  philoso- 
phy of  Cousin.  This  philosophy  demolishes,  by  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  specimens  of  scientific  analysis  that 
is  anywhere  to  be  met  with,  the  system  of  sensation, 
against  which  Mr.  Coleridge  utters  such  eloquent  and 
pathetic  denunciations.  It  establishes  on  a rock  the 
truth  of  the  everlasting  sentiments  of  the  human  heart. 
It  exhibits  to  the  speculative  inquirer,  in  the  rigorous 
forms  of  science,  the  reality  of  our  instinctive  faith  in 
God,  in  virtue,  in  the  human  soul,  in  the  beauty 
of  holiness,  and  in  the  immortality  of  man. 

Such  a philosophy,  I cannot  but  believe,  will  ulti- 
mately find  a cherished  abode  in  the  youthful  affections 
of  this  nation,  in  whose  history,  from  the  beginning,  the 
love  of  freedom,  the  love  of  philosophical  inquiry,  and 
the  love  of  religion  have  been  combined  in  a thrice  holy 
bond.  We  need  a philosophy  like  this  to  purify  and 
enlighten  our  politics,  to  consecrate  our  industry,  to 
cheer  and  elevate  society.  We  need  it  for  our  own  use 
in  the,  hours  of  mental  misgiving  and  gloom  ; when  the 
mystery  of  the  universe  presses  heavily  upon  our  souls  ; 
when  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  are  broken  up,  and 
the 

“ Intellectual  power 

Goes  sounding  on,  a dim  and  perilous  way,” 

over  the  troubled  waters  of  the  stormy  sea.  We  need  it 
for  the  use  of  our  practical  men,  who,  surrounded  on 
every  side  with  the  objects  of  sense,  engrossed  with  the 
competitions  of  business,  the  rivalries  of  public  life,  or  the 
cares  of  professional  duty,  and  accustomed  to  look  at 
the  immediate  and  obvious  utility  of  everything  which 


FRANCE. 


75 


appeals  to  their  notice,  often  acquire  a distaste  for  all 
moral  and  religious  inquiries,  and  as  an  almost  inevitable 
consequence,  lose  their  interest,  and  often  their  belief, 
in  the  moral  and  religious  faculties  of  their  nature.  We 
need  it  for  the  use  of  our  young  men,  who  are  engaged 
in  the  active  pursuits  of  life,  or  devoted  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  literature.  How  many  on  the  very  threshold  of 
manly  responsibility,  by  the  influence  of  a few  unhappy 
mistakes,  which  an  acquaintance  with  their  higher 
nature,  as  unfolded  by  a sound  religious  philosophy, 
would  have  prevented,  have  consigned  themselves  to 
disgrace,  remorse,  and  all  the  evils  of  a violated  con- 
science ! How  many  have  become  the  dupes  of  the 
sophists’  eloquence,  or  the  victims  of  the  fanatics’  terrors, 
for  whom  the  spirit  of  a true  philosophy — a philosophy 
‘ baptized  in  the  pure  fountain  of  eternal  love,’  would 
have  preserved  the  charm  and  beauty  of  life.” 

Cousin’s  “ History  of  Philosophy,”  translated  by  H. 
G.  Linberg,  was  published  in  1832.  The  “ Elements  of 
Psychology,”  by  C.  S.  Henry,  appeared  in  1834.  Thus 
Cousin  was  early  introduced  and  recommended,  and  his 
expositions  of  the  German  schools  were  received.  The 
volume  from  which  passages  have  been  cited  had  an 
important  influence  on  New  England  thought. 


V. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  ENGLAND. 

The  prophet  of  the  new  philosophy  in  England  was 
Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  ; in  the  early  part  of  the  present 
century,  perhaps  the  most  conspicuous  figure  in  our 
literary  world  ; the  object  of  more  admiration,  the 
centre  of  more  sympathy,  the  source  of  more  intellectual 
life  than  any  individual  of  his  time  ; the  criticism,  the 
censure,  the  manifold  animadversion  he  was  made  the 
mark  for,  better  attest  his  power  than  the  ovations  he 
received  from  his  worshippers.  The  believers  in  his 
genius  lacked  words  to  express  their  sense  of  his  great- 
ness. He  was  the  “ eternal  youth,”  the  “ divine  child.” 
The  brilliant  men  of  his  period  acknowledged  his  sur- 
passing brilliancy;  the  deep  men  confessed  his  depth; 
the  spiritual  men  went  to  him  for  inspiration.  His  mind, 
affluent  and  profuse,  contained  within  no  barriers  of 
conventional  form,  poured  an  abounding  flood  of 
thoughts  over  the  "whole  literary  domain.  He  was 
essayist,  journalist,  politician,  poet,  dramatist,  metaphy- 
sician, philosopher,  theologian,  divine,  critic,  expositor, 
dreamer,  soliloquizer';  in  all  eloquent,  in  all  intense. 
The  effect  he  produced  on  the  minds  of  his  contempo- 
raries will  scarcely  be  believed  now.  At  present  he  is 
little  more  than  a name  : his  books  are  pronounced  un- 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


77 


readable  ; his  opinions  are  not  quoted  as  authority  ; his 
force  is  spent.  But  in  1851,  Thomas  Carlyle,  then  past 
the  years  of  his  enthusiasm,  and  verging  on  the  scorn- 
ful epoch  of  his  intellectual  career,  spoke  of  him,  in 
the  “ Life  of  Sterling,”  as  “A  sublime  man,  who, 
alone  in  those  dark  days,  had  saved  his  crown  of  spiritual 
manhood  ; escaping  from  the  black  materialisms  and 
revolutionary  deluges,  with  God,  freedom,  immortality 
still  his  ; a king  of  men.  The  practical  intellects  of  the 
world  did  not  much  heed  him,  or  carelessly  reckoned 
him  a metaphysical  dreamer  ; but  to  the  rising  spirits  of 
the  young  generation  he  had  this  dusky,  sublime  char- 
acter, and  sat  there  as  a kind  of  Magus , girt  in  mystery 
and  enigma,  his  Dodona  oak  grove  (Mr.  Gillman’s  house 
at  Highgate)  whispering  strange  things,  uncertain 
whether  oracles  or  jargon.”  “To  the  man  himself, 
Nature  had  given  in  high  measure  the  seeds  of  a noble 
endowment,  and  to  unfold  it  was  forbidden  him.  A 
subtle,  lynx-eyed  intellect,  tremulous,  pious  sensibility 
to  all  good  and  all  beautiful ; truly  a ray  of  empyrean 
light, — but  imbedded  in  such  weak  laxity  of  character, 
in  such  indolences  and  esuriences,  as  made  strange  work 
with  it.  Once  more,  the  tragic  story  of  a high  endow- 
ment with  an  insufficient  will.” 

The  abatement  is  painfully  just  ; but  while  Coleridge 
lived,  this  very  indolence  and  moral  imbecility  added  to 
the  interest  he  excited,  and  gave  a mystic  splendor  as  of 
a divine  inspiration  to  his  mental  performances.  The 
distinction  between  unhealthiness  and  inspiration  has 
never  been  clearly  marked,  and  the  voluble  utterances 


78 


ENGLAND. 


of  the  feebly  outlined  and  loosely  jointed  soul  easily 
passed  for  oracles.  Thus  his  moral  deficiencies  aided 
his  influence.  His  wonderful  powers  of  conversation  or 
rather  of  effusion  in  the  midst  of  admiring  friends  helped 
the  illusion  and  the  fascination.  He  really  seemed 
inspired  while  he  talked;  and  as  his  talk  ranged  through 
every  domain,  the  listeners  carried  away  and  commu- 
nicated the  impression  of  a superhuman  wisdom. 

The  impression  that  Coleridge  made  on  minds  of  a 
very  different  order  from  Carlyle’s,  is  given  in  the  fol- 
lowing lines  by  Aubrey  de  Vere  : 

No  loftier,  purer  soul  than  his  hath  ever 

With  awe  revolved  the  planetary  page 
From  infancy  to  age, 

Of  knowledge,  sedulous  and  proud  to  give  her 

The  whole  of  his  great  heart,  for  her  own  sake  ; 

For  what  she  is  : not  what  she  does,  or  what  can  make. 

And  mighty  voices  from  afar  came  to  him  ; 

Converse  of  trumpets  held  by  cloudy  forms 
And  speech  of  choral  storms. 

Spirits  of  night  and  noontide  bent  to  woo  him; 

He  stood  the  while  lonely  and  desolate 

As  Adam  when  he  ruled  a world,  yet  found  no  mate. 

His  loftiest  thoughts  were  but  as  palms  uplifted  ; 

Aspiring,  yet  in  supplicating  guise — 

His  sweetest  songs  were  sighs. 

Adown  Lethean  streams  his  spirit  drifted, 

Under  Elysian  shades  from  poppied  bank, 

With  amaranths  massed  in  dark  luxuriance  dank. 


ENGLAND. 


79 


Coleridge,  farewell  ! That  great  and  grave  transition 
Which  may  not  king  or  priest  or  conqueror  spare. 

And  yet  a babe  can  bear, 

Has  come  to  thee.  Through  life  a goodly  vision 
Was  thine  ; and  time  it  was  thy  rest  to  take. 

Soft  be  the  sound  ordained  thy  sleep  to  break  ; 

When  thou  art  waking,  wake  me,  for  thy  Master’s  sake.” 

In  May,  1796, — he  was  then  twenty-four  years  old, — 
Coleridge  wrote  to  a friend,  “ I am  studying  German, 
and  in  about  six  weeks  shall  be  able  to  read  that  lan- 
guage with  tolerable  fluency.  Now  I have  some 
thoughts  of  making  a proposal  to  Robinson,  the  great 
London  bookseller,  of  translating  all  the  works  of 
Schiller,  which  would  make  a portly  quarto,  on  con- 
dition that  he  should  pay  my  journey  and  my  wife’s  to 
and  from  Jena,  a cheap  German  University  where 
Schiller  resides,  and  allow  me  two  guineas  each  quarto 
sheet,  which  would  maintain  me.  If  I could  realize  this 
scheme,  I should  there  study  chemistry  and  anatomy,  and 
bring  over  with  me  all  the  works  of  Semler  and  Michaelis, 
the  German  theologians,  and  of  Kant,  the  great  German 
metaphysician.”  In  September,  1798,  in  company 
with  Wordsworth  and  his  sister,  and  at  the  expense  of 
his  munificent  friends  Josiah  and  Thomas  Wedgewood, 
he  went  to  Germany  and  spent  fourteen  months  in  hard 
study.  There  he  attended  the  lectures  of  Eichhorn  and 
Blumenbach,  made  the  acquaintance  of  Tieck,  dipped 
quite  deeply  into  philosophy  and  general  literature,  and 
took  by  contagion  the  speculative  ideas  that  filled  his 
imagination  with  visions  of  intellectual  discovery.  Schel- 


So 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

ling’s  “Transcendental  Idealism,”  with  which  Coleridge 
was  afterwards  most  in  sympathy,  was  not  published  till 
1800.  The  “ Philosophy  of  Nature  ” was  published  in 
1797,  the  year  before  Coleridge’s  visit.  In  1817,  he  tells 
the  readers  of  the  “ Biographia  Literaria  ” that  he  had 
been  able  to  procure  only  two  of  Schelling’s  books — the 
first  volume  of  his  “ Philosophical  Writings,”  and  the 
“System  of  Transcendental  Idealism;”  these  and  “a 
small  pamphlet  against  Fichte,  the  spirit  of  which  was, 
to  my  feelings,  painfully  incongruous  with  the  principles, 
and  which  displayed  the  love  of  wisdom  rather  than  the 
wisdom  of  love.” 

The  philosophical  ideas  of  Schelling  commended  them- 
selves at  once  to  Coleridge,  who  was  a born  idealist, of  au 
dacious  genius,  speculative,  imaginative,  original,  capable 
of  any  such  abstract  achievement  as  the  German  under- 
took. 

“ In  Schelling’s  Natur  Philosophie  and  the  System 
des  Transcendentalen  Idealismus , I first  found  a genial 
coincidence  with  much  that  I had  toiled  out  for  myself, 
and  a powerful  assistance  in  what  1 had  yet  to  do. 
All  the  main  and  fundamental  ideas  were  born  and 
matured  in  my  mind  before  I had  ever  seen  a single  page 
of  the  German  philosopher  ; and  I might  indeed  affirm 
with  truth,  before  the  more  important  works  of  Schelling 
had  been  written,  or  at  least  made  public.  Nor  is  this 
at  all  to  be  wondered  at.  We  had  studied  in  the  same 
school  ; been  disciplined  by  the  same  preparatory 
philosophy,  namely,  the  writings  of  Kant ; we  had  both 
equal  obligations  to  the  polar  logic  and  dynamic 
philosophy  of  Giordano  Bruno  ; and  Schelling  has  lately, 
and,  as  of  recent,  acquisition,  avowed  that  same  affec- 
tionate reverence  for  the  labors  of  Behmen  and  other 


ENGLAND. 


81 


mystics  whicl'i^  I had  formed  at  a much  earlier  period. 
God  forbid  thatyl  should  be  suspected  of  a wish  to  enter 
into  a rivalry  witi1?^  Schelling  for  the  honors  so  unequivo- 
cally his  right,  not  o'.tilv  as  a great  original  genius,  but 
as  the  founder  of  the  Philosophy  of  Nature,  and  as  the 
most  successful  improver  ot  vthe  Dynamic  system,  which, 
begun  by  Bruno,  was  reintroduced  (in  a more  philosophi- 
cal form,  and  freed  from  all  its  imp^Hfhies  and  visionary 
accompaniments)  by  Kant,  in  whom  it  \vas*hhe^itative  and 
necessary  growth  of  his  own  system.  Kant’s  tc?JlPwerG 
however,  on  whom  (for  the  greater  part)  their  masful  ^ 
cloak  had  fallen,  without,  or  with  a very  scanty  portion 
of  his  spirit , had  adopted  his  dynamic  ideas,  only  as  a 
more  refined  species  of  mechanics.  With  exception  of 
one  or  two  fundamental  ideas  which  cannot  be  withheld 
from  Fichte,  to  Schelling  we  owe  the  completion  and 
the  most  important  victories  of  this  revolution  in 
philosophy.  To  me  it  will  be  happiness  and  honor 
enough,  should  I succeed  in  rendering  the  system  itself 
intelligible  to  my  countrymen,  and  in  the  application 
of  it  to  the  most  awful  of  subjects  for  the  most  import- 
ant of  purposes.  Whether  a work  is  the  offspring  of 
a man’s  own  spirit  and  the  product  of  original  thinking, 
will  be  discovered  by  those  who  are  its  sole  legitimate 
judges,  by  better  tests  than  the  mere  reference  to  dates.” 

The  question  of  Coleridge’s  alleged  plagiarism  from 
Schelling  does  not  concern  us  here.  Whether  the 
philosophy  he  taught  was  the  product  of  his  own  think- 
ing, or  whether  he  was  merely  the  medium  for  commu- 
nicating the  system  of  Schelling  to  his  countrymen,  is  of 
no  moment  to  us.  For  us  it  is  sufficient  to  know  that 
the  English-speaking  people  on  both  shores  of  the 
Atlantic  received  them  chiefly  through  the  Englishman. 
Those  who  are  interested  in  the  other  matter  will  find 
Coleridge’s  reputation  vindicated  in  a long  and  elabo- 
4* 


82 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


rate  introduction  to  the  “ Biographia  Literavia,”  edition 
of  1847,  by  the  poet’s  son.  / 

Coleridge  was  a pure  Transcendentamst,  of  the  Schell- 
ing  school.  The  transcendental  phrases  came  over  and 
over  in  book  and  conversation,  “reason”  and  “under- 
standing,” “ intuition,” '"r‘ necessary  truths,”  “ consci- 
ousness,” and  thjO  rest  that  were  used  to  described  .the 
superseivsual  world  and  the  faculties  by  which  it  was 
NUNSht  visible.  He  shall  speak  for  himself.  The  follow- 
ing passage  from  the  “ Biographia  Literaria,”  Chapter 
XII.,  will  be  sufficiently  intelligible  to  those  who  have 
read  the  previous  chapters,  or  enough  of  them  to  com- 
prehend their  cardinal  ideas: 

“The  criterion  is  this:  if  a man  receives  as  funda- 
mental facts,  and  therefore  of  course  indemonstratable 
and  incapable  of  further  analysis,  the  general  notions  of 
matter,  spirit,  soul,  body,  action, passiveness,  time,  space, 
cause  and  effect,  consciousness,  perception,  memory  and 
all  these,  and  is  satisfied  if  only  he  can  analyze  all  other 
notions  into  some  one  or  more  of  these  supposed  ele- 
ments, with  plausible  subordination  and  apt  arrange- 
ment ; to  such  a mind  I would  as  courteously  as  possible 
convey  the  hint,  that  for  him  this  chapter  was  not 
written.  . . . For  philosophy,  in  its  highest  sense, 

as  the  science  of  ultimate  truths,  and  therefore  scie?itia 
scientiarum , this  mere  analysis  of  terms  is  preparative 
only,  though  as  a preparative  discipline  indispensable. 

“ Still  less  dare  a favorable  perusal  be  anticipated  from 
the  proselytes  of  that  compendious  philosophy  which, 
talking  of  mind,  but  thinking  of  brick  and  mortar,  or  other 
images  equally  abstracted  from  body,  contrives  a theory 
of  spirit  by  nicknaming  matter,  and  in  a few  hours  can 
qualify  its  dullest  disciples  to  explain  the  omne  scibile  by 
reducing  all  things  to  impressions,  ideas,  and  sensations. 


ENGLAND. 


83 


“ But  it  is  time  to  tell  the  truth  ; though  it  requires 
some  courage  to  avow  it  in  an  age  and  country  in  which 
disquisitions  on  all  subjects  not  privileged  to  adopt 
technical  terms  or  scientific  symbols,  must  be  addressed 
to  the  public.  I say,  then,  that  it  is  neither  possible  nor 
necessary  for  all  men,  nor  for  many,  to  be  philosophers. 
There  is  a philosophic  consciousness  which  lies  beneath 
or  (as  it  were)  behind  the  spontaneous  consciousness 
natural  to  all  reflecting  beings.  As  the  elder  Romans 
distinguished  their  northern  provinces  into  Cis-Alpine 
and  Trans-Alpine,  so  may  we  divide  all  the  objects  of 
human  knowledge  into  those  on  this  side  and  those  on 
the  other  side  of  the  spontaneous  consciousness.  The 
latter ' <s  exclusively  the  domain  of  pure  philosophy, 
which  is  therefore  properly  entitled  transcendental , in 
order  to  discriminate  it  at  once,  both  from  mere  reflec- 
tion and  ^-presentation  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  from  those  flights  of  lawless  speculation  which, 
abandoned  by  all  distinct  consciousness,  because  trans- 
gressing the  bounds  and  purposes  of  our  intellectual 
faculties,  are  justly  condemned  as  transcendent. 

“ The  first  range  of  hills  that  encircles  the  scanty  vale 
of  human  life  is  the  horizon  for  the  majority  of  its  inhabi- 
tants. On  its  ridges  the  sun  is  born  and  departs.  From 
them  the  stars  rise,  and  touching  them  they  vanish.  By 
the  many, -even  this  range,  the  natural  limit  and  bulwark 
of  the- vale,  is  but  imperfectly  known.  Its  higher  as- 
cenfs  are  too  often  hidden  in  mists  and  clouds  from 
uncultivated  swamps  which  few  have  courage  or  curiosity 
to  penetrate.  To  the  multitude  below  these  vapors 
appear,  now  as  the  dark  haunts  of  terrific  agents,  on 
which  none  may  intrude  with  impunity  ; and  now  all 
aglow,  with  colors  not  their  own,  they  are  gazed  at  as  the 
splendid  palaces  of  happiness  and  power.  But  in  all 
ages  there  have  been  a few  who,  measuring  and  sounding 
the  rivers  of  the  vale  at  the  feet  of  their  farthest  inacces- 
sible falls,  have  learned  that  the  sources  must  be  far 
higher  and  far  inward  ; a few  who,  even  in  the  level 
streams,  have  detected  elements  which  neither  the  vale 


84 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


itself  nor  the  surrounding  mountains  contained  or  could 
supply.  How  and  whence  to  these  thoughts,  these 
strong  probabilities,  the  ascertaining  vision,  the  intuitive 
knowledge  may  finally  supervene,  can  be  learned  only 
by  the  fact.  I might  oppose  to  the  question  the  words 
with  which  Plotinus  supposes  Nature  to  answer  a similar 
difficulty  : ‘ Should  any  one  interrogate  her  how  she 

works,  if  graciously  she  vouchsafe  to  listen  and  speak, 
she  will  reply,  it  behooves  thee  not  to  disquiet  me  with 
interrogatories,  but  to  understand  in  silence,  even  as  I 
am  silent,  and  work  without  words.’ 

“They  and  they  only  can  acquire  the  philosophic 
imagination,  the  sacred  power  of  self-intuition,  who 
within  themselves  can  interpret  and  understand  the 
symbol,  that  the  wings  of  the  air-sylph  are  forming 
within  the  skin  of  the  caterpillar  ; those  only,  who  feel  in 
their  own  spirits  the  same  instinct  which  impels  the 
chrysalis  of  the  horned  fly  to  leave  room  in  its  iuvoln- 
cnnn  for  antennce  yet  to  come.  They  know  and  feel  that 
the  potential  works  in  them,  even  as  the  actual  works  in 
them  ! In  short,  all  the  organs  of  sense  are  framed  for 
a corresponding  world  of  sense  ; and  we  have  it.  All 
the  organs  of  spirit  are  framed  fora  correspondent  world 
of  spirit  ; though  the  latter  organs  are  not  developed  in 
all  alike.  But  they  exist  in  all,  and  their  first  appearance 
discloses  itself  in  the  moral  being.  How  else  could  it  be 
that  even  worldlings,  not  wholly  debased,  will  contem- 
plate the  man  of  simple  and  disinterested  goodness  with 
contradictory  feelings  of  pity  and  respect.  ‘ Poor  man, 
he  is  not  made  for  this  world.’  Oh,  herein  they  utter  a 
prophecy  of  universal  fulfilment,  for  man  must  either 
rise  or  sink. 

“ It  is  the  essential  mark  of  the  true  philosopher  to  rest 
satisfied  with  no  imperfect  light,  as  long  as  the  impos- 
sibility of  attaining  a fuller  knowledge  has  not  been 
demonstrated.  That  the  common  consciousness  itself 
will  furnish  proofs  by  its  own  direction  that  it  is  con- 
nected with  master  currents  below  the  surface,  I shall 
merely  assume  as  a postulate  pro  tempore.  . . . On  the 


ENGLAND. 


85 


IMMEDIATE  which  dwells  in  every  man,  and  on  the 
original  intuition  or  absolute  affirmation  of  it  (which  is 
likewise  in  every  man,  but  does  not  in  every  man  rise 
into  consciousness),  all  the  certainty  of  our  knowledge 
depends  ; and  this  becomes  intelligible  to  no  man  by 
the  ministry  of  mere  words  from  without.  The  medium 
by  which  spirits  understand  each  other  is  not  the  sur- 
rounding air,  but  the  freedom  which  they  possess  in 
common,  as  the  common  ethereal  element  of  their 
being,  the  tremulous  reciprocations  of  which  propagate 
themselves  even  to  the  inmost  of  the  soul.  Where  the 
spirit  of  a man  is  not  filled  with  the  consciousness  of 
freedom  (were  it  only  from  its  restlessness,  as  of  one 
struggling  in  bondage)  all  spiritual  intercourse  is  inter- 
rupted, not  only  with  others,  but  even  with  himself. 
No  wonder,  then,  that  he  remains  incomprehensible  to 
himself  as  well  as  to  others.  No  wonder  that  in  the 
fearful  desert  of  his  consciousness  he  wearies  himself 
out  with  empty  words  to  which  no  friendly  echo  answers, 
either  from  his  own  heart  or  the  heart  of  a fellow-being  ; 
or  bewilders  himself  in  the  pursuit  of  notional  phan- 
toms, the  mere  refractions  from-  unseen  and  distant 
truths  through  the  distorting  medium  of  his  own  unen- 
livened and  stagnant  understanding  ! To  remain  unin- 
telligible to  such  a mind,  exclaims  Schelling  on  a like 
occasion,  is  honor  and  a good  name  before  God  and 
man. 

“ Philosophy  is  employed  on  objects  of  the  inner  sense, 
and  cannot,  like  geometry,  appropriate  to  every  con- 
struction a corresponding  outward  intuition.  . . . Now 
the  inner  sense  has  its  direction  determined  for  the 
greater  part  only  by  an  act  of  freedom.  One  man’s 
consciousness  extends  only  to  the  pleasant  or  unpleasant 
sensations  caused  in  him  by  external  impressions  ; another 
enlarges  his  inner  sense  to  a consciousness  of  forms 
and  quantity ; a third,  in  addition  to  the  image,  is 
conscious  of  the  conception  or  notion  of  the  thing  : a 
fourth  attains  to  a notion  of  his  notions — he  reflects  on 
Lis  own  reflections  ; and  thus  we  may  say  without  ini- 


86 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


propriety,  that  the  one  possesses  more  or  less  inner 
sense  than  the  other.  . . . 

“ The  postulate  of  philosophy,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
test  of  philosophical  capacity,  is  no  other  than  the  heaven- 
descended  Know  Thyself.  And  this  at  once  practi- 
cally and  speculatively.  For  as  philosophy  is  neither  a 
science  of  the  reason  or  understanding  only,  nor  merely 
a science  of  morals,  but  the  science  of  Being  altogether, 
its  primary  ground  can  be  neither  merely  speculative  nor 
merely  practical,  but  both  in  one.  All  knowledge  rests 
upon  the  coincidence  of  an  object  with  a subject.  For 
we  can  know  only  that  which  is  true  ; and  the  truth  is  uni- 
versally placed  in  the  coincidence  of  the  thought  with  the 
thing,  of  the  representation  with  the  object  represented.” 

Coleridge  then  puts  and  argues  the  two  alternatives, 
i.  Either  the  Objective  is  taken  as  primary,  and.  then 
we  have  to  account  for  the  supervention  of  the  Subjec- 
tive which  coalesces  with  it,  which  natural  philosophy 
supposes.  2.  Or  the  Subjective  is  taken  as  primary, 
and  then  we  have  to  account  for  the  supervention  of  the 
objective,  which  spiritual  philosophy  supposes.  The 
Transcendentalist  accepts  the  latter  alternative. 

“ The  second  position,  which  not  only  claims  but 
necessitates  the  admission  of  its  immediate  certainty, 
equally  for  the  scientific  reason  of  the  philosopher  as  for 
the  common-sense  of  mankind  at  large,  namely,  I AM, 
cannot  properly  be  entitled  a prejudice.  It  is  ground- 
less indeed  ; but  then  in  the  very  idea  it  precludes  all 
ground,  and,  separated  from  the  immediate  conscious- 
ness, loses  its  whole  sense  and  import.  It  is  ground- 
less ; but  only  because  it  is  itself  the  ground  of  all  other 
certainty.  Now  the  apparent  contradiction,  that  the 
first  position — namely,  that  the  existence  of  things  with- 
out us,  which  from  its  nature  cannot  be  immediately 
certain — should  be  received  as  blindly  and  as  independ- 
ently of  all  grounds  as  the  existence  of  our  own  being, 


ENGLAND. 


87 


the  transcendental  philosopher  can  solve  only  by  the 
supposition  that  the. former  is  unconsciously  involved  in 
the  latter  ; that  it  is  not  only  coherent,  but  identical,  and 
one  and  the  same  thing  with  our  own  immediate  self- 
consciousness.  To  demonstrate  this  identity  is  the  office 
and  object  of  his  philosophy. 

“ If  it  be  said  that  this  is  idealism,  let  it  be  remembered 
that  it  is  only  so  far  idealism,  as  it  is  at  the  same  time  and 
on  that  very  account  the  truest  and  most  binding  realism.” 

To  follow  the  exposition  further  is  unnecessary  for  the 
present  purpose,  which  is  to  state  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  the  philosophy,  not  to  give  the  processes  of 
reasoning  by  which  they  are  illustrated.  Had  Coleridge 
been  merely  a philosopher,  his  influence  on  his  genera- 
tion, by  this  means,  would  have  been  insignificant  ; for 
his  expositions  were  fragmentary ; his  thoughts  were 
too  swift  and  tumultuous  in  their  flow  to  be  systemati- 
cally arranged  ; his  style,  forcible  and  luminous  in  pas- 
sages, is  interrupted  by  too  frequent  episodes,  excursions 
and  explanatory  parentheses,  to  be  enjoyed  by  the  inex- 
pert. Besides  being  a philosopher,  he  was  a theologian. 
His  deepest  interest  .was  ,in  the  problems  of  theology. 
His  mind  was  perpetually  turning  over  the  questions  of 
trinity,  incarnation,  Holy  Ghost,  sin,  redemption,  salva- 
tion. He  meditated  endless  books  on  these  themes, 
and,  in  special,  one  “ On  the  Logos,”  which  was  to  re- 
move all  difficulties  and  reconcile  all  contradictions. 
“ On  the  whole,  those  dead  churches,  this  dead  English 
church  especially,  must  be  brought  to  life  again.  Why 
not  ? It  was  not  dead  ; the  soul  of  it,  in  this  parched-up 
body,  was  tragically  asleep  only.  Atheistic  philosophy 
was,  true,  on  its  side  ; and  Hume  and  Voltaire  could, 


88 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


on  their  own  ground,  speak  irrefragably  for  themselves 
against  any  church  : but  lift  the  church  and'  them  into  a 
higher  sphere  of  argument,  they  died  into  inanition,  the 
church  revivified  itself  into  pristine  florid  vigor,  became 
once  more  a living  ship  of  the  desert,  and  invincibly 
bore  you  over  stock  and  stone.” 

The  philosophy  was  accepted  as  a basis  for  the  theol- 
ogy, and  apparently  only  so  far  as  it  supplied  the  basis. 
Mrs.  Coleridge  declares,  in  a note  to  Chapter  IX.  of  the 
“ Biographia  Literaria,”  that  her  husband,  soon  after  the 
composition  of  that  work,  became  dissatisfied  with  the 
system  of  Schelling,  considered  as  a fundamental  and 
comprehensive  scheme  intended  to  exhibit  the  relations 
of  God  to  the  world  and  man.  He  objected  to  it,  she 
insists,  as  essentially  pantheistic,  radically  inconsistent 
with  a belief  in  God  as  himself  moral  and  intelligent, 
as  beyond  and  above  the  world,  as  the  supreme  mind 
to  which  the  human  mind  owes  homage  and  fealty — in- 
consistent with  any  just  view  and  deep  sense  of  the 
moral  and  spiritual  being  of  man.  He  was  mainly  con- 
cerned with  the  construction  of  a “ philosophical  system, 
in  which  Christianity, — based  on  the  triune  being  of  God, 
and  embracing  a primal  fall  and  universal  redemption, 
(to  use  Carlyle’s  words)  Christianity,  ideal,  spiritual, 
eternal,  but  likewise  and  necessarily  historical,  realized 
and  manifested  in  time, — should  be  shown  forth  as 
accordant,  or  rather  as  one  with  ideas  of  reason,  and 
the  demands  of  the  spiritual  and  of  the  speculative  mind, 
of  the  heart,  conscience,  reason,  which  should  all  be 
satisfied  and  reconciled  in  one  bond  of  peace.” 


ENGLAND. 


89 


This  explains  the  interest  which  young  and  enthu- 
siastic minds  jn  the  English  Church  took  in  Coleridge, 
the  verses  just  quoted  from  Aubrey  de  Vere,  one  of  the 
new  school  of  believers,  the  admiring  discipleship  of 
Frederick  Denison  Maurice,  the  hearty  allegiance  of 
the  leaders  of  the  spiritual  reformation  in  England. 
Coleridge  was  the  real  founder  of  the  Broad  Church, 
which  attempted  to  justify  creed  and  sacrament,  by  sub- 
stituting the  ideas  of  the  spiritual  philosophy  for  the 
formal  authority  of  traditions  which  the  reason  of  the  age 
was  discarding. 

The  men  who  sympathized  with  the  same  movement 
in  America  felt  the  same  gratitude  to  their  leader. 
Already  in  1829  “ The  Aids  to  Reflection  ” were  repub- 
lished by  Dr.  James  Marsh.  Caleb  Sprague  Henry, 
professor  of  philosophy  and  history  in  the  University  of 
New  York  in  1839,  and  before  that  a resident  of  Cam- 
bridge, an  enthusiastic  thinker  and  eloquent  talker, 
loved  to  dilate  on  the  genius  of  the  English  philosopher, 
and  was  better  than  a book  in  conveying  information 
about  him,  better  than  many  books  in  awakening  in- 
terest in  his  thought.  The  name  of  Coleridge  was 
spoken  with  profound  reverence,  his  books  were  studied 
industriously,  and  the  terminology  of  transcendentalism 
was  as  familiar  as  commonplace  in  the  circles  of  divines 
and  men  of  letters.  At  present  Hegel  is  the  prophet  of 
these  believers,  Schelling  is  obsolete,  and  Coleridge, 
the  English  Schelling,  has  had  his  day.  The  change  is 
marked  by  an  all  but  entire  absence  of  the  passionate 
enthusiasm,  the  imaginative  glow  and  fervor,  that  char- 


90 


TRANS  CENDENTA  LISM. 


acterized  the  transcendental  phase  of  the  movement. 
Coleridge  was  a vital  thinker  ; his  mind  was  a flame  ; 
his  thoughts  burned  within  him,  and  issued  from  him  in 
language  that  trembled  and  throbbed  with  the  force  of 
the  ideas  committed  to  it.  He  was  a divine,  a preacher 
of  most  wonderful- eloquence.  At  the  age  of  three  or 
four  and  forty  Serjeant  Talfourd  heard  him  talk. 

“ At  first  his  tones  were  conversational : he  seemed  to 
dally  with  the  shallows  of  the  subject  and  with  fantastic 
images  which  bordered  it  ; but  gradually  the  thought 
grew  deeper,  and  the  voice  deepened  with  the  thought ; 
the  stream  gathering  strength  seemed  to  bear  along  with 
it  all  things  which  opposed  its  progress,  and  blended  them 
with  its  current  ; and  stretching  away  among  regions 
tinted  with  ethereal  colors,  was  lost  at  airy  distance  in 
the  horizon  of  fancy.”  At  five-and-twenty  William 
Hazlitt  heard  him  preach. 

“ It  was  in  January,  1798,  that  I rose  one  morning  be- 
fore daylight,  to  walk  ten  miles  in  the  mud,  to  hear  this 
celebrated  person  preach.  Never,  the  longest  day  I 
have  to  live,  shall  I have  such  another  walk  as  this  cold, 
raw,  comfortless  one,  in  the  winter  of  the  year  1798. 
II  y a des  impressions  que  ni  le  temps  ni  les  circonstances 
pcuvcnt  cffacer.  Dnsse  je  vivre  des  siecles  entiers,  le 
donx  temps  de  ma  jeunesse  ne pent  renctitre  pour  moi , ni 
s cffacer  jamais  dans  ma  memoire.  When  1 got  there 
the  organ  was  playing  the  hundredth  psalm,  and  when 
it  was  done  Mr.  Coleridge  rose  and  gave  out  his  text, 

‘ He  departed  again  into  a mountain  himself  alone.’ 
As  he  gave  out  this  text  his  voice  ‘ rose  like  a stream  of 
rich  distilled  perfumes  ; ’ and  when  he  came  to  the  last 
two  words,  which  he  pronounced  loud,  deep,  and  dis- 
tinct, it  seemed  to  me,  who  was  then  young,  as  if  the 
sounds  had  echoed  from  the  bottom  of  the  human  heart, 
and  as  if  that  prayer  might  have  floated  in  solemn 
silence  through  the  universe.  The  idea  of  St.  John  came 
into  my  mind,  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,  who  had 


ENGLAND. 


91 


his  loins  girt  about,  and  whose  food  was  locusts  and  wild 
honey.  The  preacher  then  launched  into  his  subject, 
like  an  eagle  dallying  with  the  wind.  The  sermon  was 
upon  peace  and  war,  upon  church  and  state,  not  their 
alliance,  but  their  separation  ; on  the  spirit  of  the  world 
and  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  not  as  the  same,  but  as 
opposed  to  one  another.  He  talked  of  those  who  had 
inscribed  the  cross  of  Christ  on  banners  dripping  with 
human  gore.  He  made  a poetical  and  pastoral  excur- 
sion, and  to  show  the  effects  of  war,  drew  a striking 
contrast  between  the  simple  shepherd  boy,  driving  his 
team  afield,  or  sitting  under  the  hawthorn,  piping  to  his 
flock  as  though  he  should  never  be  old  ; and  the  same 
poor  country  lad,  crimped,  kidnapped,  brought  into 
town,  made  drunk  at  an  ale-house,  turned  into  a wretched 
drummer-boy,  with  his  hair  sticking  on  end  with  powder 
and  pomatum,  a long  cue  at  his  back,  and  tricked  out 
in  the  finery  of  the  profession  of  blood. 

* Such  were  the  notes  our  once  loved  poet  sung  ; ’ 

and  for  myself  I could  not  have  been  more  delighted  if 
I had  heard  the  music  of  the  spheres.  Poetry  and  Phi- 
losophy had  met  together,  Truth  and  Genius  had  em- 
braced, under  the  eye  and  with  the  sanction  of  Religion. 
This  was  even  beyond  my  hopes.  I returned  home  well 
satisfied.” 

The  influence  of  Coleridge  was  greatly  assisted  by 
contemporary  magazines,  which  helped  by  their  furious 
efforts  to  crush  him,  and  won  sympathy  for  him  by  their 
attempts  to  laugh  and  hoot  him  down.  Jeffrey  handled 
the  “ Biographia  Literaria  ” in  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
August,  1817  ; “as  favorable  to  the  book  as  could  be  ex- 
pected," the  editor  quietly  says.  The  numberless  varieties 
of  judgment  were  represented  in  the  Dublin  University 


92 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Magazine,  British  and  Foreign  Quarterly,  Fraser,  Black- 
wood, Christian  Quarterly,  Spectator,  Monthly  Review, 
Eclectic,  Westminster,  most  of  which  contained  several 
articles  on  different  aspects  of  the  subject.  In  America, 
Geo.  B.  Cheever  wrote  in  the  North  American  Review, 
F.  H.  Hedge  in  the  Christian  Examiner,  D.  N.  Lord  in 
Lord’s  Theological  Journal,  H.  T.  Tuckerman  in  the 
Southern  Literary  Messenger,  Noah  Porter  in  the  Bib- 
liotheca Sacra.  The  New  York  Review,  the  American 
Quarterly,  American  Whig  Review,  all  made  contribu- 
tions to  the  Coleridgian  literature,*  and  exhibited  the 
extensive  reaches  of  his  power.  The  readers  of  Lamb, 
Hazlitt,  Wordsworth,  Southey  and  the  brilliant  essayists 
that  made  so  fascinating  the  English  literature  of  the  first 
third  of  our  century  must  perforce  be  introduced  to  Cole- 
ridge. The  “Ancient  Mariner’'  and  “ Christabel,” 
which  lay  on  every  table,  excited  interest  in  the  man  from 
whom  such  astonishing  pieces  proceeded  ; so  that  many 
who  understood  little  or  nothing  of  his  philosophical 
ideas,  appropriated  something  of  the  spirit  and  tone  of 
them.  He  had  disciples  who  never  heard  him  speak 
even  in  print,  and  followers  who  never  saw  his  form  even 
as  sketched  by  critics.  His  thoughts  were  in  the  air  ; 
the  mental  atmosphere  of  theological  schools  was  modi- 
fied by  them.  They  insensibly  transplanted  establish- 
ments and  creeds  from  old  to  new  regions. 

In  1851,  Thomas  Carlyle  burlesqued  Coleridge,  took 
off  his  solemn  oracular  manner,  made  fun  of  his  “plain- 


* See  for  references.  Poole’s  Index  to  Periodical  Literature. 


ENGLAND. 


93 


tive  snuffle  and  sing-song,”  his  “ om-m-ject  and  sum-m- 
ject,”  his  “ talk  not  flowing  any  whither  like  a river,  but 
spreading  everywhither  in  inextricable  currents  and 
regurgitations  like  a lake  or  sea  ; terribly  deficient 
in  definite  goal  or  aim,  nay  often  in  logical  intelligi- 
bility ; what  you  were  to  believe  or  do,  on  any  earthly 
or  heavenly  thing,  obstinately  refusing  to  appear  from  it, 
so  that,  most  times,  you  felt  logically  lost  ; swamped 
near  to  drowning  in  this  tide  of  ingenious  vocables 
spreading  out  boundless  as  if  to  submerge  the  world.” 
But  in  his  earlier  days  the  “ windy  harangues  ” and  “ diz- 
zying metaphysics  ” had  their  charm  for  him  too  ; the 
philosophy  of  the  Highgate  sage  was  in  essence  and  fruit 
his  own.  He  explained  at  some  length  and  with  con- 
siderable frequency,  as  well  as  much  eloquence,  the  dis- 
tinction between  “ understanding,”  the  faculty  that 
observed,  generalized,  inferred,  argued,  concluded,  and 
“ reason,”  the  faculty  that  saw  the  ideal  forms  of  truth 
face  to  face,  and  beheld  the  inmost  reality  of  things.  He 
dilated  with  a disciple’s  enthusiasm  on  the  principles  of 
the  transcendental  philosophy,  painted  in  gorgeous  col- 
ors the  promises  it  held  forth,  prophesied  earnestly 
respecting  the  better  time  for  literature,  art,  social  ethics 
and  religious  faith  it  would  bring  in,  preached  tem- 
pestuously against  shams  in  church  and  state,  from  the 
mount  of  vision  that  it  disclosed.  We  have  already 
seen  how  he  could  speak  of  Kant,  Fichte,  Novalis,  of 
Goethe  and  Jean  Paul.  Thirty-five  years  ago  Carlyle  was 
the  high  priest  of  the  new  philosophy.  Emerson  edited 
his  miscellanies,  and  the  dregs  of  his  ink-bottle  were  wel- 


94 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


corned  as  the  precious  sediment  of  the  fountain  of 
inspiration.  In  1827  he  defended  the  “ Kritik  of  Pure 
Reason  ” against  stupid  objectors  from  the  sensational 
side,  as,  in  the  opinion  of  the  most  competent  judges, 
“distinctly  the  greatest  intellectual  achievement  of  the 
century  in  which  it  came  to  light,”  and  affirmed  as  by 
authority,  that  the  seeker  for  pure  truth  must  begin  with 
intuition  and  proceed  outward  by  the  light  of  the  revela- 
tion thence  derived.  In  1831  he  carried  this  principle 
to  the  extreme  of  maintaining  that  a complete  surrender 
to  the  informing  genius,  a surrender  so  entire  as  to 
amount  to  the  abandonment  of  definite  purpose  and 
will,  was  evidence  of  perfect  wisdom  ; for  such  is  the 
interpretation  we  give  to  the  paradoxical  doctrine  of 
“ unconsciousness”  which  implied  that  in  order  to  save 
the  soul  it  must  be  forgotten  ; that  consciousness  was  a 
disease  ; that  in  much  wisdom  was  much  grief. 

Had  Carlyle  been  more  of  a philosopher  and  less  of  a 
preacher,  more  a thinker  and  less  a character,  more  a 
patient  toiler  after  truth,  and  less  a man  of  letters,  his 
first  intellectual  impulse  might  have  lasted.  As  it  was, 
the  reaction  catne  precisely  in  middle  life,  and  the  apostle 
of  transcendental  ideas  became  the  champion  of  Force. 
His  Transcendentalism  seems  to  have  been  a thing  of 
sentiment  rather  than  of  conviction.  A man  of  tremen- 
dous strength  of  feeling,  his  youth-,  as  is  the  case  with  men 
of  feeling,  was  romantic,  enthusiastic,  hopeful,  exube- 
rant ; his  manhood,  as  is  also  the  case  with  men  of  feeling, 
was  wilful  and  overbearing,  with  sadness  deepening  into 
moroseness  and  unhopefulness  verging  towards  despair. 


ENGLAND. 


95 


The  era  of  despair  had  not  set  in  at  the  period  when 
the  mind  of  New  England  was  fermenting  with  the 
ideas  of  the  new  philosophy.  Then  all  was  brave,  hu- 
mane, aspiring.  The  denunciations  of  materialism  in 
philosophy,  formalism  in  religion  and  utilitarianism  in 
personal  and  social  ethics,  rang  through  the  land  ; 
the  superb  vindications  of  soul  against  sense  , spirit 
against  letter,  faith  against  rite,  heroism  and  nobleness 
against  the  petty  expediencies  of  the  market,  kindled  all 
earnest  hearts.  The  emphatic  declarations  that  “wonder 
and  reverence  are  the  conditions  of  insight  and  the 
source  of  strength  ; that  faith  is  prior  to  knowledge  and 
deeper  too  ; that  empirical  science  can  but  play  on  the 
surface  of  unfathomable  mysteries  ; that  in  the  order  of' 
reality  the  ideal  and  invisible  are  the  world’s  true  ada- 
mant, and  the  laws  of  material  appearance  only  its  allu- 
vial growths  ; that  in  the  inmost  thought  of  men  there  is 
a thirst  to  which  the  springs  of  nature  are  a mere  mirage, 
and  which  presses  on  to  the  waters  of  eternity,”  fell 
like  refreshing  gales  from  the  hills  on  the  children  of 
men  imprisoned  in  custom  and  suffocated  by  tradition. 
The  infinitely  varied  illustrations  of  the  worth  of  beauty, 
the  grandeur  of  truth,  the  excellence  of  simple,  devout 
sincerity  in  nature,  literature,  character;  the  burning 
insistance  on  the  need  of  fresh  inspiration  from  the  region 
of  serene  ideas,  seemed  to  proceed  from  a soul  newly 
awakened,  if  not  especially  endowed  with  the  seer’s 
vision.  It  was  better  than  philosophy  ; it  was  philoso- 
phy made  vital  with  sentiment  and  purpose. 

Carlyle  early  learned  the  German  language,asColeridge 


96 


TRANS  CENDENTALISM. 


did,  and  drank  deep  from  the  fountains  of  its  best  litera- 
ture. To  him  it  opened  a new  world  of  thought,  which 
the  ordinary  Englishman  had  no  conception  of.  Cole- 
ridge found  himself  at  home  there  by  virtue  of  his  natural 
genius,  and  also  by  the  introduction  given  him  by  Wm. 
Law,  John  Pordage,  Richard  Saumarez,  and  Jacob  Beh- 
men,  so  that  the  suddenly  discovered  continent  broke  on 
him  with  less  surprise  ; but  Carlyle  was  as  one  taken 
wholly  unawares,  fascinated,  charmed,  intoxicated  with 
the  sights  and  sounds  about  him.  Being  unprepared 
by  previous  reflection  and  overpowered  by  the  gorgeous- 
ness of  color,  the  wealth  was  too  much  for  him  ; it  pall- 
ed at  last  on  his  appetite,  and  he  experienced  a reaction 
similar  to  that  of  the  sensualist  whose  delirium  first  per- 
suades him  that  he  has  found  his  soul,  and  then  makes 
him  fear  that  he  has  lost  it. 

With  the  reactionary  stage  of  Carlyle’s  career  when,  as 
a frank  critic  observes,  “ he  flung  away  with  a shriek  the 
problems  his  youth  entertained,  as  the  fruit  by  which 
paradise  was  lost ; repented  of  all  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil ; clapped  a bandage  round  the  open  eyes  of  morals, 
religion,  art,  and  saw  no  salvation  but  in  spiritual  sui- 
cide by  plunging  into  the  currents  of  instinctive  nature 
that  sweep  us  we  know  not  whither” — we  are  not  con- 
cerned. His  interest  for  us  ceases  with  his  moral  en- 
thusiasm. 

A more  serene  and  beneficent  influence  proceeded  from 
the  poet  Wordsworth,  whose  fame  rose  along  with  that 
of  Coleridge,  struggled  against  the  same  opposition,  and 
obtained  even  a steadier  lustre.  There  was  a kindred  be- 


ENGLAND. 


97 


tween  them  which  Wordsworth  did  not  acknowledge, 
but  which  Coleridge  more  than  suspected  and  tried  to 
divulge.  One  chapter  in  the  first  volume  of  the  “ Biog- 
raphia  Literaria  ” and  four  chapters  in  the  second  volume 
are  devoted  to  the  consideration  of  Wordsworth’s  poetry, 
and  effort  is  made,  not  quite  successfully,  to  bring  Words- 
worth’s psychological  faith  into  sympathy  with  his  own. 

Wordsworth’s  genius  has  furnished  critics  with  mate- 
rials for  speculation  that  must  be  sought  in  their  proper 
places.  We  have  no  fresh  analysis  to  offer.  That  the 
secret  of  his  power  over  the  ingenuous  and  believing 
minds  of  his  age  is  to  be  found  in  the  sentiment  with 
which  he  invested  homely  scenes  and  characters  is  a 
superficial  conjecture.  What  led  him  to  invest  homely 
scenes  and  characters  with  sentiment,  and  what  made 
this  circumstance  interesting  to  precisely  that  class  of 
minds  ? What,  but  the  same  latent  idealism  that  came  to 
deliberate  and  formal  expression  in  Coleridge,  and  sug- 
gested in  the  one  what  was  proclaimed  by  the  other  ? 
For  Wordsworth  was  a metaphysician,  though  he  did  not 
clearly  suspect  it  ; at  least,  if  he  did,  he  was  careful  not 
to  betray  himself  by  the  usual  signs.  The  philosophers 
recognized  him  and  paid  to  him  their  acknowledgments. 

In  the  “ Dial,”  Wordsworth  is  mentioned  with  honor  ; 
not  discussed  as  Goethe  was,  but  pleasantly  talked  about 
as  a well-known  friend.  The  third  volume  of  that  mag- 
gazine,  April,  1843,  contains  an  article  on  “Europe 
and  European  Books”  in  which  occurs  the  following  tri- 
bute to  Wordsworth  : 

“The  capital  merit  of  Wordsworth  is  that  he  has 

5 


98 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


done  more  for  the  sanity  of  this  generation  than  any 
other  writer.  Early  in  life,  at  a crisis,  it  is  said,  in  his 
private  affairs,  he  made  his  election  between  assuming 
and  defending  some  legal  rights  with  the  chances  of 
wealth  and  a position  in  the  world — and  the  inward 
promptings  of  his  heavenly  genius  ; he  took  his  part ; he 
accepted  the  call  to  be  a poet,  and  sat  down,  far  from 
cities,  with  coarse  clothing  and  plain  fare  to  obey  the 
heavenly  vision.  The  choice  he  had  made  in  his  will 
manifested  itself  in  every  line  to  be  real.  We  have 
poets  who  write  the  poetry  of  society,  of  the  patricians 
and  conventional  Europe,  as  Scott  and  Moore  ; and 
others,  who,  like  Byron  or  Bulwer,  write  the  poetry  of 
vice  and  disease.  But  Wordsworth  threw  himself  into  his 
place,  made  no  reserves  or  stipulations  ; man  and  writer 
were  not  to  be  divided.  He  sat  at  the  foot  of  Helvellyn 
and  on  the  margin  of  Windermere,  and  took  their  lus- 
trous mornings  and  their  sublime  midnights, for  his  theme, 
and  not  Marlowe  nor  Massinger,  nor  Horace,  nor  Milton 
nor  Dante.  He  once  for  all  forsook  the  styles  and 
standards  and  modes  of  thinking  of  London  and  Paris 
and  the  books  read  there,  and  the  aims  pursued,  and 
wrote  Helvellyn  and  Windermere  and  the  dim  spirits 
which  these  haunts  harbored.  There  was  not  the  least  at- 
tempt to  reconcile  these  with  the  spirit  of  fashion  and 
selfishness,  nor  to  show,  with  great  deference  to  the  su- 
perior judgment  of  dukes  and  earls,  that  although  London 
was  the  home  for  men  of  great  parts,  yet  Westmore- 
land had  these  consolations  for  such  as  fate  had  condemn- 
ed to  the  country  life  ; but  with  a complete  satisfaction 
he  pitied  and  rebuked  their  false  lives,  and  celebrated  his 
own  with  the  religion  of  a true  priest.  Hence  the  an- 
tagonism which  was  immediately  felt  between  his  poetry 
and  the  spirit  of  the  age,  that  here  not  only  criticism 
but  conscience  and  will  were  parties  ; the  spirit  of  litera- 
ture, and  the  modes  of  living,  and  the  conventional  the- 
ories of  the  conduct  of  life  were  called  in  question  on 
wholly  new  grounds,  not  from  Platonism,  nor  from 


ENGLAND. 


99 


Christianity,  but  from  the  lessons  which  the  country 
muse  taught  a stout  pedestrian  climbing  a mountain,  and 
following  a river  from  its  parent  rill  down  to  the  sea. 
The  Cannings  and  Jeffreys  of  the  capital,  the  Court  Jour- 
nals and  Literary  Gazettes  were  not  well  pleased,  and 
voted  the  poet  a bore.  But  that  which  rose  in  him  so 
high  as  to  the  lips,  rose  in  many  others  as  high  as  to  the 
heart.  What  he  said,  they  were  prepared  to  hear  and 
to  confirm.  The  influence  was  in  the  air,  and  was 
wafted  up  and  down  into  lone  and  populous  places,  re- 
sisting the  popular  taste,  modifying  opinions  which  it 
did  not  change,  and  soon  came  to  be  felt  in  poetry,  in 
criticism,  in  plans  of  life,  and  at  last  in  legislation.  In 
this  country  it  very  early  found  a stronghold,  and  its 
effect  may  be  traced  on  all  the  poetry  both  of  England 
and  America.” 

This  is  truly  and  well  said,  though  quite  inadequate. 
The  slighting  allusion  to  Platonism  might  have  been 
omitted,  for  possibly  Wordsworth  had  caught  something 
of  the  philosophy  that  was  in  the  air.  Mr.  Emerson, 
in  “Thoughts  on  Modern  Literature,”  in  the  second 
number  of  the  “Dial,”  Oct.  1840,  touched  a deeper 
chord. 

“The  fame  of  Wordsworth”  he  says,  “is  a lead- 
ing fact  in  modern  literature,  when  it  is  considered 
how  hostile  his  genius  at  first  seemed  to  the  reigning 
taste,  and  with  what  feeble  poetic  talents  his  great  and 
steadily  growing  dominion  has  been  established.  More 
than  any  poet  his  success  has  been  not  his  own,  but 
that  of  the  idea  which  he  shared  with  his  coevals,  and 
which  he  has  rarely  succeeded  in  adequately  expressing. 
The  Excursion  awakened  in  every  lover  of  nature  the 
right  feeling.  We  saw  the  stars  shine,  we  felt  the  awe 
of  mountains,  we  heard  the  rustle  of  the  wind  in  the 
grass,  and  knew  again  the  ineffable  secret  of  solitude. 
It  was  a great  joy.  It  was  nearer  to  nature  than  any 


loo 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


thing  we  had  before.  But  the  interest -of  the  poem 
ended  almost  with  the  narrative  of  the  influences  of 
nature  on  the  mind  of  the  Boy,  in  the  the  first  book. 
Obviously  for  that  passage  the  poem  was  written,  and 
with  the  exception  of  this  and  a few  strains  of  like 
character  in  the  sequel,  the  whole  poem  was  dull.  Here 
was  no  poem,  but  here  was  poetry,  and  a sure  index 
where  the  subtle  muse  was  about  to  pitch  her  tent  and 
find  the  argument  of  her  song.  It  was  the  human  soul 
in  these  last  ages  striving  for  a just  publication  of  itself. 
Add  to  this,  however,  the  great  praise  of  Wordsworth, 
that  more  than  any  other  contemporary  bard  he  is 
pervaded  with  a reverence  of  somewhat  higher  than 
(conscious)  thought.  There  is  in  him  that  property 
common  to  all  great  poets — a wisdom  of  humanity, 
which  is  superior  to  any  talents  which  they  exert.  It 
is  the  wisest  part  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  for  they  are 
poets  by  the  free  course  which  they  allow  to  the  inform- 
ing soul,  which  through  their  eyes  beholdeth  again  and 
blesseth  the  things  which  it  hath  made.  The  soul  is 
superior  to  its  knowledge,  wiser  than  any  of  its  works.” 
In  the  general  Preface  to  his  poems,  where  Words- 
worth discusses  the  principles  of  the  poetic  art,  he 
wrote:  “The  imagination  is  conscious  of  an  indestruct- 
ible dominion  ; the  soul  may  fall  away,  from  its  not 
being  able  to  sustain  its  grandeur,  but  if  once  felt 
and  acknowledged,  by  no  act  of  any  other  faculty  of  the 
mind  can  it  be  relaxed,  impaired  or  diminished.  Fancy  is 
given  to  quicken  and  to  beguile  the  temporal  part  of  our 
nature;  Imagination  to  incite  and  support  the  eternal.” 
And  in  the  appendix : “Faith  was  given  to  man  that  his 
affections,  detached  from  the  treasures  of  time,  might  be 
inclined  to  settle  on  those  of  eternity  : the  elevation  of  his 
nature,  which  this  habit  produces  on  earth,  being  to  him 


ENGLAND. 


iox 


a presumptive  evidence  of  a future  state  of  existence,  and 
giving  him  a title  to  partake  of  its  holiness.  The  reli- 
gious man  values  what  he  sees,  chiefly  as  an  ‘ imperfect 
shadowing  forth’  of  what  he  is  incapable  of  seeing.”  Was 
this  an  echo  from  the  German  Jacobi,  whose  doctrine  of 
Faith  had  been  some  time  abroad  in  the  intellectual  world  ? 

The  ode  “ Intimations  of  Immortality  from  Recollec- 
tions of  Early  Childhood,”  was  a clear  reminiscence  of 
Platonism.  This  famous  poem  was  the  favorite  above 
all  other  effusions  of  Wordsworth  with  the  Transcendent- 
alists,  who  held  it  to  be  the  highest  expression  of  his 
genius,  and  most  characteristic  of  its  bent.  Emerson  in 
his  last  discourse  on  Immortality,  calls  it  “the  best 
modern  essay  on  the  subject.”  Many  passages  in  the 
“ Excursion”  attest  the  transcendental  character  of  the 
author’s  faith.  Coleridge  quotes  the  following  lines  : 

For  I have  learned 
To  look  on  nature,  not  as  in  the  hour 
Of  thoughtless  youth,  but  hearing  oftentimes 
The  still  sad  music  of  humanity, 

Nor  harsh  nor  grating,  though  of  ample  power 
To  chasten  and  subdue.  And  I have  felt 
A presence  that  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts ; a sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused. 

Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 

And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air, 

And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man ; 

A motion  and  a spirit  that  impels 

All  thinking  things,  all  objects  of  all  thought, 

And  rolls  through  all  things.” 


102 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


The  passage  quoted  next  suggests  the  very  language 
of  Fichte  in  his  Bestimmung  des  Menschen,  “In  der 
Liebe  nur  ist  das  Leben,  ohne  Sie  ist  Tod  und  Vernich- 
tung.” 

This  is  the  genuine  course,  the  aim,  the  end, 

Of  prescient  Reason  ; all  conclusions  else 
Are  abject,  vain,  presumptuous  and  perverse, 

The  faith  partaking  of  those  holy  times. 

Life,  I repeat,  is  energy  of  Love, 

Divine  or  human;  exercised  in  pain, 

In  strife  and  tribulation  ; and  ordained, 

If  so  approved  and  sanctified,  to  pass 
Through  shades  and  silent  rest,  to  endless  joy. 

Another  extract  recalls  the  “ pantheism  ” of  Schell- 
ing. 

Thou— who  didst  wrap  the  cloud 
Of  infancy  around  us,  that  Thyself 
Therein  with  our  simplicity  awhile 
Might’st  hold,  on  earth,  communion  undisturbed, 

Who  from  the  anarchy  of  dreaming  sleep, 

Or  from  its  death -like  void,  with  punctual  care, 

And  touch  as  gentle  as  the  morning  light, 

Restorest  us,  daily,  to  the  powers  of  sense 
And  reason’s  steadfast  rule, — Thou,  thou  alone 
Art  everlasting,  and  the  blessed  Spirits, 

Which  Thou  includest,  as  the  Sea  her  Waves. 

For  adoration  Thou  endurest  ; endure 
For  consciousness  the  motions  of  Thy  will ; 

For  apprehension  those  transcendent  truths 
Of  the  pure  Intellect,  that  stand  as  laws  ; 

Submission  constituting  strength  and  power, 

Even  to  Thy  Being’s  infinite  majesty  ! 


ENGLAND. 


io3 

Having  before  me  a copy  of  Wordsworth’s  poems, 
once  the  possession  of  an  earnest  Transcendentalist,  I 
find  these,  and  many  lines  of  similar  import,  underlined  ; 
showing  how  dear  the  English  poet  was  to  the  American 
reader. 

There  were  others  who  held  and  enunciated  the  new 
faith  that  came  from  Germany,  the  transfigured  pro- 
testantism  of  the  land  of  Luther.  But  these  three  names 
will  suffice  to  indicate  the  wealth  of  England’s  contribu- 
tion to  the  spiritual  life  of  the  New  World — Coleridge, 
Carlyle,  Wordsworth — the  philosopher,  the  preacher, 
the  poet  ; the  man  of  thought,  the  man  of  letters,  the 
man  of  imagination.  These  embrace  all  the  methods  by 
which  the  fresh  enthusiasm  for  the  soul  communicated 
its  power.  These  three  were  everywhere  read,  and 
everywhere  talked  of.  They  occupied  prominent  places 
in  the  public  eye.  They  sank  into  the  shadow  only 
when  the  faith  that  glorified  them  began  to  decline. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Emerson  in  the  paper  just  quo- 
ted, written  in  1840,  passes  from  Wordsworth  to  Landor  ; 
while  the  author  of  the  other  paper,  written  in  1843, 
passes,  and  almost  with  an  expression  of  relief,  from 
Wordsworth  to  Tennyson,  the  new  poet  whose  breaking- 
glory  threatened  the  morning  star  with  eclipse.  By  this 
time  Transcendentalism  was  on  the  wane.  The  “ Dial  ” 
marked  for  one  year  longer  the  hours  of  the  great  day, 
and  then  was  removed  from  its  place,  and  the  scientific 
method  of  measuring  progress  was  introduced.  Words- 
worth from  year  to  year  had  a diminishing  proportion  of 
admirers  : from  year  to  year  the  admirers  of  Tennyson 


io4 


TRANS  CENDENTA  LISM. 


increased.  As  early  as  1843  the  passion  for  music,  color, 
and  external  polish  was  manifest.  Tennyson’s  elegance 
and  subtlety,  his  rich  fancy,  his  mastery  of  language,  his 
metrical  skill,  his  taste  for  the  sumptuous  and  gorgeous, 
were  winning  their  way  to  popularity.  The  critic  in  the 
“Dial”  has  misgivings:  “ In  these  boudoirs  of  damask 
and  alabaster  one  is  further  off  from  stern  nature  and 
human  life  than  in  “Lalla  Rookh”  and  “The  Loves'  of 
the  Angels.”  Amid  swinging  censers  and  perfumed 
lamps,  amidst  velvet  and  glory,  we  long  for  rain  and 
frost.  Otto  of  roses  is  good,  but  wild  air  is  better.” 
But  the  sweets  have  been  tasted,  and  have  spoiled  the 
relish  for  the  old  homeliness.  For  the  man  who  loved 
him  the  charm  of  Wordsworth  was  idyllic  ; for  the  few 
who  bent  the  head  to  him  it  was  mystical  and  prophetic. 
The  idyllic  sentiment  palled  on  the  taste.  It  was  a re- 
action from  artificial  forms  of  sensibility,  and  having  en- 
joyed its  day,  submitted  to  the  law  of  change  that  called 
it  into  being.  The  moral  earnestness,  the  mystic  ideal- 
ism became  unpopular  along  with  the  school  of  philoso- 
phy from  which  it  sprung,  and  gave  place  to  the  real- 
ism of  the  Victorian  bards,  who  expressed  the  sensuous 
spirit  of  a more  external  age.  Transcendentalism  lurks 
in  corners  of  England  now.  The  high  places  of  thought 
arc  occupied  by  men  who  approach  the  great  problems 
from  the  side  of  nature,  and  through  matter  feel  after 
mind  ; by  means  of  the  senses  attempt  the  heights  of 
spirit. 


VI. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM  IN  NEW  ENGLAND. 

The  title  of  this  Chapter  is  in  a sense  misleading.  For 
with  some  truth  it  may  be  said  that  there  never  was 
such  a thing  as  Transcendentalism  out  of  New  England. 
In  Germany  and  France  there  was  a transcendental  phil- 
osophy, held  by  cultivated  men,  taught  in  schools,  and 
professed  by  many  thoughtful  and  earnest  people  ; but 
it  never  affected  society  in  its  organized  institutions  or 
practical  interests.  In  old  England,  this  philosophy 
influenced  poetry  and  art,  but  left  the  daily  existence  of 
men  and  women  untouched.  But  in  New  England,  the 
ideas  entertained  by  the  foreign  thinkers  took  root  in 
the  native  soil  and  blossomed  out  in  every  form  of  social 
life.  The  philosophy  assumed  full  proportions,  produced 
fruit  according  to  its  kind,  created  a new  social  order  for 
itself,  or  rather  showed  what  sort  of  social  order  it  would 
create  under  favoring  conditions.  Its  new  heavens  and 
new  earth  were  made  visible,  if  but  for  a moment,  and 
in  a wintry  season.  Hence,  when  we  speak  of  Trans- 
cendentalism, we  mean  New  England  Transcendentalism. 

New  England  furnished  the  only  plot  of  ground  on  the 
planet,  where  the  transcendental  philosophy  had  a chance 
to  show  what  it  was  and  what  it  proposed.  The  forms 
5* 


io6 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


of  life  there  were,  in  a measure,  plastic.  There  were  no 
immovable  prejudices,  no  fixed  and  unalterable  traditions. 
Laws  and  usages  were  fluent,  malleable  at  all  events.  The 
sentiment  of  individual  freedom  was  active  ; the  truth 
was  practically  acknowledged,  that  it  takes  all  sorts  of 
people  to  make  a world,  and  the  many  minds  of  the 
many  men  were  respected.  No  orders  of  men,  no  aristo- 
cracies of  intellect,  no  privileged  classes  of  thought 
were  established.  The  old  world  supplied  such  litera- 
ture as  there  was,  in  science,  law,  philosophy,  ethics, 
theology  ; but  an  astonishing  intellectual  activity  seized 
upon  it,  dealt  with  it  in  genuine  democratic  fashion, 
classified  it,  accepted  it,  dismissed  it,  paying  no  undue 
regard  to  its  foreign  reputation.  Experiments  in  thou  ght 
and  life,  of  even  audacious  description,  were  made,  not 
in  defiance  of  precedent — for  precedent  was  hardly  re- 
spected enough  to  be  defied — but  in  innocent  uncon- 
sciousness of  precedent.  A feeling  was  abroad  that  all 
things  must  be  new  in  the  new  world.  There  was  call 
for  immediate  application  of  ideas  to  life.  In  the  old 
world,  thoughts  remained  cloistered  a generation  before 
any  questioned  their  bearing  on  public  or  private  affairs. 
In  the  new  world,  the  thinker  was  called  on  to  justify  him- 
self on  the  spot  by  building  an  engine,  and  setting  some- 
thing in  motion.  The  test  of  a truth  was  its  availability. 
The  popular  faith  in  the  capacities  of  men  to  make  states, 
law's,  religions  for  themselves,  supplied  a ground  work  for 
the  new  philosophy.  The  philosophy  of  sensation,  making 
great  account,  as  it  did,  of  circumstances,  arrangements, 
customs  usages,  rules  of  education  and  discipline,  was  alien 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


107 

and  disagreeable  to  people  who,  having  just  emancipated 
themselves  from  political  dependence  on  the  mother 
country,  were  full  of  confidence  in  their  ability  to  set  up 
society  for  themselves.  The  philosophy  that  laid  its  foun- 
dations in  human  nature,  and  placed  stress  on  the  organic 
capacities  and  endowments  of  the  mind,  was  as  congenial 
as  the  opposite  system  was  foreign.  Every  native  New 
Englander  was  at  heart,  whether  he  suspected  it  or  not, 
radically  and  instinctively  a disciple  of  Fichte  or  Schel- 
ling,  of  Cousin  or  Jouffroy. 

The  religion  of  New  England  was  Protestant  and  of 
the  most  intellectual  type.  Romanism  had  no  hold  on  the 
thinking  people  of  Boston.  None  beside  the  Irish  laboring 
and  menial  classes  were  Catholics,  and  their  religion  was 
regarded  as  the  lowest  form  of  ceremonial  superstition. 
The  Congregational  system  favored  individuality  of 
thought  and  action.  The  orthodox  theology,  in  spite  of  its 
arbitrary  character  and  its  fixed  type  of  supernaturalism, 
exercised  its  professors  severely  in  speculative  questions, 
and  furnished  occasions  for  discernment  and  criticism 
which  made  reason  all  but  supreme  over  faith.  This  the- 
ology too  had  its  purely  spiritual  side — nay,  it  was  essen- 
tially spiritual.  Its  root  ran  back  into  Platonism,  and  its 
flower  was  a mysticism  which,  on  the  intellectual  side, 
bordered  closely  on  Transcendentalism.  The  charge  that 
the  Trinitarian  system,  in  its  distinguishing  features,  was 
of  Platonic,  and  not  of  Jewish  origin,  was  a confession  that 
it  was  born  of  the  noblest  idealism  of  the  race.  So  in  truth 
it  was,  and  so  well-instructed  Trinitarians  will  confess  that 
it  was.  The  Platonic  philosophy  being  transcendental 


ioS 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


in  its  essence  and  tendency,  communicated  this  char- 
acter to  Christian  speculation.  The  skeletons  of  an- 
cient polemics  were  buried  deep  beneath  the  soil  of 
orthodoxy,  and  were  not  supposed  to  be  a part  of  the 
structure  of  modern  beliefs,  but  there  nevertheless  they 
were.  The  living  faith  of  New  England,  in  its  spiritual 
aspects,  betrayed  its  ancestry.  The  speculation  had  be- 
come Christian, the  powers  claimed  by  pagan  philosophers 
for  the  mind  were  ascribed  to  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  and  the  truths  revealed  in  consciousness  were 
truths  of  the  Gospel  ; but  the  fact  of  immediate  commu- 
nication between  the  soul  of  the  believer  and  its  Christ 
was  so  earnestly  insisted  on,  the  sympathy  was  repre- 
sented as  being  of  so  kindred  and  organic  a nature,  that 
in  reading  the  works  of  the  masters  of  New  England 
theology,  it  requires  an  effort  to  forget  that  the  specula- 
tive basis  of  their  faith  was  not  the  natural  basis  of  the 
philosopher,  but  the  supernatural  one  of  the  believer. 
The  spiritual  writings  of  Jonathan  Edwards,  the 
“Treatise  on  the  Religious  Affections”  especially, 
breathe  the  sweetest  spirit  of  idealism.  Indeed,  when- 
ever orthodoxy  spread  its  wings  and  rose  into  the 
region  of  faith,  it  lost  itself  in  the  sphere  where  the 
human  soul  and  the  divine  were  in  full  concurrence. 
Transcendentalism  simply  claimed  for  all  men  what 
Protestant  Christianity  claimed  for  its  own  elect. 

That  adherents  of  the  sensuous  philosophy  professed 
the  orthodox  doctrines,  is  a circumstance  that  throws  the 
above  statement  into  bolder  relief.  For  these  people 
gave  to  the  system  the  hard,  external,  dogmatical  charac- 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


109 

ter  which  in  New  England  provoked  the  Unitarian 
reaction.  The  beliefs  in  scripture  inspiration,  incar- 
nation, atonement,  election,  predestination,  depravity, 
fall,  regeneration,  redemption,  deprived  of  their  interior 
meaning,  became  ragged  heaps  of  dogmatism,  unbeauti- 
ful, incredible,  hateful.  Assault  came  against  them  from 
the  quarter  of  common  intelligence  and  the  rational 
understanding.  The  sensuous  philosophy  associated 
with  the  school  of  Locke, — which  Edwards  and  the  like 
of  him  scorned, — fell  upon  the  fallen  system  and  plucked 
it  unmercifully.  Never  was  easier  work  than  that  of 
the  early  Unitarian  critics.  The  body  of  orthodoxy 
having  lost  its  soul,  was  a very  unsightly  carcass, — s© 
evidently,  to  every  sense,  a carcass,  that  they  who  had 
respected  it  as  a celestial  creation,  and  could  not  be 
persuaded  that  this  was  all  they  respected,  allowed  the 
scavengers  to  take  it  away,  only  protesting  that  the  thing 
disposed  of  was  not  the  revealed  gospel,  or  anything 
but  a poor  effigy  of  it. 

Th'e  Unitarians  as  a class  belonged  to  the  school  of 
Locke,  which  discarded  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas, 
and  its  kindred  beliefs.  Unitarianism  from  the  beginning 
showed  affinity  with  this  school,  and  avowed  it  more 
distinctly  than  idealists  avowed  Trinitarianism.  Paul  of 
Samosata,  Arius,  Pelagius,  Socinus,  the  Swiss,  Polish, 
English  advocates  of  the  same  general  theology  and 
christology  were,  after  their  several  kinds,  di'sciples  of 
the  same  philosophical  system.  Unitarianism,  it  was 
remarked,  has  rarely,  if  ever,  been  taught  or  held  by  any 
man  of  eminence  in  the  church  who  was  a Platonist. 


I IO 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


The  Unitarians  of  New  England,  good  scholars;  careful 
reasoners,  clear  and  exact  thinkers,  accomplished  men 
of  letters,  humane  in  sentiment,  sincere  in  moral  inten- 
tion, belonged,  of  course  with  individual  exceptions,  to 
the  class  which  looked  without  for  knowledge,  rather 
than  wifhin  for  inspiration.  The  Unitarian  in  religion 
was  a whig  in  politics,  a conservative  in  literature, 
art  and  social  ethics.  The  Unitarian  divine  was  more 
familiar  with  Tillotson  than  with  Cudworth,  and  more  in 
love  with  William  Paley  than  with  Joseph  Butler.  He 
was  strong  in  the  “ Old  English”  classics,  and  though  a 
confessed  devotee  to  no  school  in  philosophy,  was 
addicted  to  the  prevailing  fashion  of  intelligent,  cultiva- 
ted good  sense.  The  Unitarian  was  disquieted  by 
mysticism,  enthusiasm  and  rapture.  Henry  More  was 
unintelligible  to  him,  and  Robert  Fludd  disgusting. 
He  had  no  sympathy  with  ‘Helvetius,  D’Holbach,  Did- 
erot or  Voltaire,  those  fierce  disturbers  of  intellectual 
peace;  he  had  as  little  with  William  Law  and  Cole- 
ridge, dreamers  and  visionaries,  who  substituted  vapor 
for  solid  earth.  The  Unitarian  leaders  were  distin- 
guished by  practical  wisdom,  sober  judgment,  and 
balanced  thoughtfulness,  that  weighed  opinions  in  the 
scale  of  evidence  and  argument.  Even  Dr.  Channing 
clung  to  the  philosophical  traditions  that  were  his 
inheritance  from  England.  The  splendid  things  he  said 
about  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  the  divinity  of  the 
soul,  the  moral  kinship  with  Christ,  the  inspiration  of  the 
moral  sentiment,  the  power  of  moral  intuition,  habitual 
and  characteristic  as  they  were,  scarcely  justify  the 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


ill 


ascription  to  him  of  sympathy  with  philosophical 
idealism.  His  tenacious  adherence  to  the  record  of 
miracle  as  attesting  the  mission  of  the  Christ,  and  his 
constant  exaltation  of  the  Christ  above  humanity, 
suggest  that  the  first  principles  of  the  transcendental 
philosophy  had  not  been  distinctly  accepted,  even  if 
they  were  distinctly  apprehended.  The  following* 
extract  from  a letter  written  in  1819,  expresses  Dr. 
Channing’s  feeling  toward  Christ,  a feeling  never  essen- 
tially altered:  “Jesus  Christ  existed  before  he  came 
into  the  world,  and  in  a state  of  great  honor  and  felicity. 
He  was  known,  esteemed,  beloved,  revered  in  the 
family  of  heaven.  He  was  entrusted  with  the  execution 
of  the  most  sublime  purposes  of  his  Father.”  About  the 
same  time  he  wrote:  “Jesus  ever  lives,  and  is  ever 
active  for  mankind.  He  is  Mediator,  Intercessor,  Lord, 
and  Saviour ; He  has  a permanent  and  constant  con- 
nection with  mankind.  He  is  through  all  time,  now  as 
well  as  formerly,  the  active  and  efficient  friend  of  th^ 
human  race.”  The  writer  of  such  words  was  certainly 
not  a Transcendentalist  in  philosophy.  His  biographer, 
himself  a brilliant  Transcendentalist,  admits  as  much. 
“ His  soul”  he  says,  “ was  illuminated  with  the  idea  of 
the  absolute  immutable  glory  of  the  Moral  Good  ; and 
reverence  for  conscience  is  the  key  to  his  whole 
doctrine  of  human  destiny  and  duty.  Many  difficult 
metaphysical  points  he  passed  wholly  by,  as  being  out  of 
the  sphere  alike  of  intuition  and  of  experience.  He 
believed,  to  be  sure,  in  the  possibility  of  man’s  gaining 
some  insight  of  Universal  Order,  and  respected  the  lofty 


I 12 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


aspiration  which  prompts  men  to  seek  a perfect  know- 
ledge of  the  Divine  laws  ; but  he  considered  pretensions 
to  absolute  science  as  quite  premature ; saw  more 
boastfulness  than  wisdom  in  ancient  and  modern 
schemes  of  philosophy,  and  was  not  a little  amused  at 
the  complacent  confidence  with  which  quite  evidently 
fallible  theorists  assumed  to  stand  at  the  centre,  and  to 
scan  and  depict  the  panorama  of  existence.”  In  a letter 
of  1840,  referring  to  the  doctrines  of  Mr.  Parker  and 
that  school  of  thinkers,  he  writes  : “I  see  and  feel  the 
harm  done  by  this  crude  speculation,  whilst  I also  see 
much  nobleness  to  bind  me  to  its  advocates.  In  its 
opinions  generally  I see  nothing  to  give  me  hope.  I am 
somewhat  disappointed  that  this  new  movement  is  to  do 
so  little  for  the  spiritual  regeneration  of  society.”  A 
year  later,  he  tells  James  Martineau  that  the  spiritual- 
ists (meaning  the  Transcendentalists)  “in  identifying 
themselves  a good  deal  with  Cousin’s  crude  system,  have 
lost  the  life  of  an  original  movement.  They  are  anxious 
to  defend  the  soul’s  immediate  connection  with  God, 
and  are  in  danger  of  substituting  private  inspiration 
for  Christianity.”  What  he  knew  of  Kant,  Schelling 
and  Fichte,  through  Mad.  de  Stael  and  Coleridge,  he 
welcomed  as  falling  in  with  his  own  conceptions  of  the 
grandeur  of  the  human  mind  and  will  ; but  his  aquaint- 
ance  with  them  was  never  complete,  and  if  it  had  been, 
he  would  perhaps  have  been  repelled  by  the  intellectual, 
as  strongly  as  he  was  attracted  by  the  moral  teaching. 

In  this  matter  the  sentiment  of  Channing  went  beyond 
his  philosophy.  The  following  extracts  taken  at  random 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


TI3 

from  a volume  of  discourses  edited  in  1873  by  his 
nephew,  under  the  title  “ The  Perfect  Life,”  show  that 
Channing  was  a Transcendentalist  in  feeling,  whatever  he 
may  have  been  in  thought. 

“The  religious  principle,  is,  without  doubt,  the  noblest 
working  of  human  nature.  This  principle  God  im- 
planted for  Himself.  Through  this  the  human  mind  cor- 
responds to  the  Supreme  Divinity.” 

“ The  idea  of  God  is  involved  in  the  primitive  and 
most  universal  idea  of  Reason  ; and  is  one  of  its  central 
principles.” 

“We  have,  each  of  us,  the  spiritual  eye  to  see,  the 
mind  to  know,  the  heart  to  love,  the  will  to  obey  God.” 

“ A spiritual  light,  brighter  than  that  of  noon,  per- 
vades our  daily  life.  The  cause  of  our  not  seeing  is  in 
ourselves.” 

“ The  great  lesson  is,  that  there  is  in  human  nature  an 
element  truly  Divine,  and  worthy  of  all  reverence  ; that 
the  Infinite  which  is  mirrored  in  the  outward  universe, 
is  yet  more  brightly  imaged  in  the  inward  spiritual 
world.” 

“ They  who  assert  the  greatness  of  human  nature,  see 
as  much  of  guilt  as  the  man  of  worldly  wisdom.  But 
amidst  the  passions  and  selfishness  of  men  they  see 
another  element — a Divine  element — a spiritual  princi- 
ple.” 

“ This  moral  principle — the  supreme  law  in  man — is 
the  Law  of  the  Universe,  the  very  Law  to  which  the 
highest  beings  are  subject,  and  in  obeying  which  they 
find  their  elevatio-n  and  their  joy.” 

“The  Soul  itself, — in  its  powers  and  affections,  in  its 
unquenchable  thirst  and  aspiration  for  unattained  good, 
gives  signs  of  a Nature  made  for  an  interminable  pro- 
gress, such  as  cannot  be  now  conceived.” 

The  debt  which  Transcendentalism  owed  to  Unitarian- 
ism  was  not  speculative  ; neither  was  it  immediate  or  di- 


1 14 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


rect.  The  Unitarians,  clergy  as  well  as  laity,  so  far  as 
the  latter  comprehended  their  position,  acknowledged 
themselves  to  be  friends  of  free  thought  in  religion.  This 
was  their  distinction.  They  disavowed  sympathy  with 
dogmatism,  partly  because  such  dogmatism  as  there  was 
existed  in  the  minds  of  their  theological  foes,  and  was 
felt  in  such  persecution  as  society  permitted  ; and  partly 
because  they  honestly  respected  the  human  mind,  and 
valued  thought  for  its  own  sake.  They  had  no  creed, 
and  no  system  of  philosophy  on  which  a creed  could  be, 
by  common  consent,  built.  Rather  were  they  open  in- 
quirers, who  asked  questions  and  waited  for  rational  an- 
swers, having  no  definite  apprehension  of  the  issue  to 
which  their  investigations  tended,  but  with  room  enough 
within  the  accepted  theology  to  satisfy  them,  and  work 
enough  on  the  prevailing  doctrines  to  keep  them  em- 
ployed. Under  these  circumstances,  they  honestly  but 
incautiously  professed  a principle  broader  than  they 
were  able  to  stand  by,  and  avowed  the  absolute  freedom 
of  the  human  mind  as  their  characteristic  faith  ; instead 
of  a creed,  the  right  to  judge  all  creeds  ; instead  of  a sys- 
tem, authority  to  try  every  system  by  rules  of  evidence. 
The  intellectual  among  them  were  at  liberty  to  entertain 
views  which  an  orthodox  mind  instinctively  shrank  from  ; 
to  read  books  which  an  orthodox  believer  would  not 
have  touched  with  the  ends  of  his  fingers.  The  litera- 
ture on  their  tables  represented  a wide  mental  activity. 
Their  libraries  contained  authors  never  found  before  on 
ministerial  shelves.  Skepticism  throve  by  what  it  fed 
on  ; and,  before  they  had  become  fully  aware  of  the  pos- 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


115 

sible  results  of  their  diligent  study,  their  powers  had  ac- 
quired a confidence  that  encouraged  ventures  beyond 
the  walls  of  Zion.  This  profession  of  free  inquiry,  and 
the  practice  of  it  within  the  extensive  area  of  Protestant 
theology,  opened  the  door  to  the  new  speculation  which 
carried  unlooked-for  heresies  in  its  bosom  ; and  before 
the  gates  could  be  closed  the  insidious  enemy  had  pene- 
trated to  the  citadel. 

There  was  idealism  in  New  England  prior  to  the  in- 
troduction of  Transcendentalism.  Idealism  is  of  no 
clime  or  age.  It  has  its  proportion  of  disciples  in  every 
period  and  in  the  apparently  most  uncongenial  countries; 
a full  proportion  might  have  been  looked  for  in  New 
England.  But  when  Emerson  appeared,  the  name  of 
Idealism  was  legion.  He  alone  was  competent  to  form  a 
school,  and  as  soon  as  he  rose,  the  scholars  trooped 
about  him.  By  sheer  force  of  genius  Emerson  anticipa- 
ted the  results  of  the  transcendental  philosophy,  defined 
its  axioms  and  ran  out  their  inferences  to  the  end. 
Without  help  from  abroad,  or  with  such  help  only  as 
none  but  he  could  use,  he  might  have  domesticated  in 
Massachusetts  an  idealism  as  heroic  as  Fichte’s,  as 
beautiful  as  Schelling’s  ; but  it  would  have  lacked  the 
dialectical  basis  of  the  great  German  systems. 

Transcendentalism,  properly  so  called,  was  imported 
in  foreign  packages.  Few  read  German,  but  most 
read  French.  As  early  as  1804,  Degerando  lectured  on 
Kant’s  philosophy,  in  Paris  ; and  as  early  as  1813  Mad.  de 
Stael  gave  an  account  of  it.  The  number  of  copies  of 
the  original  works  of  either  Kant,  Fichte,  Jacobi  or 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


1 16 

Schelling,  that  found  their  way  to  the  United  States, 
was  inconsiderable.  Half  a dozen  eager  students  obtained 
isolated  books  of  Herder,  Schleiermacher,  De  Wette  and 
other  theological  and, biblical  writers,  read  them,  trans- 
lated chapters  from  them,  or  sent  notices  of  them  to  the 
Christian  Examiner.  The  works  of  Coleridge  made 
familiar  the  leading  ideas  of  Schelling.  The  foreign 
reviews  reported  the  results  and  processes  of  French 
and  German  speculation.  In  1827,  Thomas  Carlyle 
wrote,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  his  great  articles  on 
Richter  and  the  State  of  German  Literature  ; in  1828 
appeared  his  essay  on  Goethe.  Mr.  Emerson  presented 
these  and  other  papers  as  “ Carlyle’s  Miscellanies”  to 
the  American  public.  In  1838  George  Ripley  began  the 
publication  of  the  “ Specimens  of  Foreign  Standard 
Literature,”  a series  which  extended  to  fourteen  vol- 
umes ; the  first  and  second  comprising  philosophical 
miscellanies  by  Cousin,  JoufTroy  and  Constant,  translated 
with  introductions  by  Mr.  Ripley  himself;  the  third 
devoted  to  Goethe  and  Schiller,  with  elaborate  and  dis- 
criminating prefaces  by  John  S.  Dwight;  the  fourth 
giving  Eckermann’s  Conversations  with  Goethe,  done 
into  English  by  Margaret  Fuller;  the  three  next  contain- 
ing Menzel’s  German  Literature,  by  Prof.  C.  C.  Felton  ; 
the  eighth  and  ninth  introducing  Wm.  H.  Channing’s 
version  of  Jouffroy’s  Introduction  to  Ethics ; the  tenth  and 
eleventh,  DeWette’s  Theodor,  by  James  Freeman  Clarke; 
the  twelfth  and  thirteenth,  DeWette’s  Ethics,  by  Samuel 
Osgood;  and  the  last  offering  samples  of  German  Lyrics, 
by  Charles  T.  Brooks.  These  volumes,  which  were  re- 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


U7 


markably  attractive,  both  in  form  and  contents,  brought 
many  readers  into  a close  acquaintance  with  the  teaching 
and  the  spirit  of  writers  of  the  new  school. 

The  Philosophical  Miscellanies  of  Cousin  were  much 
noticed  by  the  press,  George  Bancroft  in  especial 
sparing  no  pains  to  commend  them  and  the  views  they 
presented.  The  spiritual  philosophy  had  no  more 
fervent  or  eloquent  champion  than  he.  No  reader  of  his 
“ History  of  the  United  States,”  has  forgotten  the 
noble  tribute  paid  to  it  under  the  name  of  Quakerism, 
or  the  striking  parallel  between  the  two  systems  repre- 
sented in  the  history  by  John  Locke  and  Wm.  Penn, 
both  of  whom  framed  constitutions  for  the  new  world. 
For  keenness  of  apprehension  and  fullness  of  statement 
the  passages  deserve  to  be  quoted  here.  They  occur  in 
the  XVI.  chapter  of  the  History. 


“ The  elements  of  humanity  are  always  the  same,  the 
inner  light  dawns  upon  every  nation,  and  is  the  same  in 
every  age;  and  the  French  revolution  was  a result  of  the 
same  principles  as  those  of  George  Fox,  gaining  domin- 
inion  over  the  mind  of  Europe.  They  are  expressed  in 
the  burning  and  often  profound  eloquence  of  Rousseau  ; 
they  reappear  in  the  masculine  philosophy  of  Kant 
The  professor  of  Konigsberg,  like  Fox  and  Barclay  and 
Penn,  derived  philosophy  from  the  voice  in  the  soul ; like 
them,  he  made  the  oracle  within  the  categorical- rule  of 
practical,  morality,  the  motive  to  disinterested  virtue; 
like  them,  he  esteemed  the  Inner  Light,  which  discerns 
universal  and  necessary  truths,  an  element  of  humanity  ; 
and  therefore  his  philosophy  claims  for  humanity  the 
right  of  ever  renewed  progress  and  reform.  If  the 
Quakers  disguised  their  doctrine  under  the  form  of 


TRANSCEiWENmLISM. 


1 18 

theology,  Kant  concealed  it  for  a season  under  the 
jargon  of  a nervous  but  unusual  diction.  But  Schiller 
has  reproduced  the  great  idea  in  beautiful  verse  ; Chat- 
eaubriand avowed  himself  its  advocate  ; Coleridge  has 
repeated  the  doctrine  in  misty  language ; it  beams 
through  the  poetry  of  Lamartine  and  Wordsworth  ; 
while  in  the  country  of  beautiful  prose,  the  eloquent 
Cousin,  listening  to  the  same  eternal  voice  which  connects 
humanity  with  universal  reason,  has  gained  a wide  fame 
for  “ the  divine  principle,”  and  in  explaining  the  harmony 
between  that  light  and  the  light  of  Christianity,  has  often 
unconsciously  borrowed  the  language,  and  employed  the 
arguments  of  Barclay  and  Penn.” 


A few  pages  later  is  the  brilliant  passage  describing 
the  essential  difference  between  this  philosophy  and  that 
of  Locke : 


“ Locke,  like  William  Penn,  was  tolerant ; both  loved 
freedom,  both  cherished  truth  in  sincerity.  But  Locke 
kindled  the  torch  of  liberty  at  the  fires  of  tradition  ; Penn 
at  the  living  light  in  the  soul.  Locke  sought  truth  through 
the  senses  and  the  outward  world  ; Penn  looked  inward  to 
the  divine  revelations  in  every  mind.  Locke  compared 
the  soul  to  a sheet  of  white  paper,  just  as  Hobbes  had 
compared  it  to  a slate  on  which  time  and  chance  might 
scrawl  their  experience.  To  Penn  the  soul  was  an  organ 
which  of  itself  instinctively  breathes  divine  harmonies, 
like  those  musical  instruments  which  are  so  curiously 
and  perfectly  formed,  that  when  once  set  in  motion,  they 
of  themselves  give  forth  all  the  melodies  designed  by 
the  artist  that  made  them.  To  Locke,  conscience  is 
nothing  else  than  our  own  opinion  of  our  own  actions  ; 
to  Penn,  it  is  the  image  of  God  and  his  oracle  in  the 
soul.  . . . In  studying  the  understanding  Locke  begins 
with  the  sources  of  knowledge  ; Penn  with  an  inventory 
of  our  intellectual  treasures.  ..  . . The  system  of 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


1x9 

Locke  lends  itself  to  contending  factions  of  the  most 
opposite  interests  and  purposes  ; the  doctrine  of  Fox  and 
Penn,  being  but  the  common  creed  of  humanity,  forbids 
division  and  insures  the  highest  moral  unity.  To  Locke, 
happiness  is  pleasure,  and  things  are  good  and  evil  only  in 
reference  to  pleasure  and  pain  ; and  to  “ inquire  after  the 
highest  good  is  as  absurd  as  to  dispute  whether  the  best 
relish  be  in  apples,  plums  or  nuts.”  Penn  esteemed  hap- 
piness to  lie  in  the  subjection  of  the  baser  instincts  to 
the  instinct  of  Deity  in  the  breast ; good  and  evil  to  be 
eternally  and  always  as  unlike  as  truth  and  falsehood  ; 
and  the  inquiry  after  the  highest  good  to  involve  the 
purpose  of  existence.  Locke  says  plainly  that,  but  for 
rewards  and  punishments  beyond  the  grave,  ‘ it  is  cer- 
tainly right  to  eat  and  drink,  and  enjoy  what  we  delight 
in.’  Penn,  like  Plato  and  Fenelon,  maintained  the  doc- 
trine so  terrible  to  despots,  that  God  is  to  be  loved  for 
His  own  sake,  and  virtue  to  be  practised  for  its  intrinsic 
loveliness.  Locke  derives  the  idea  of  infinity  from  the 
senses,  describes  it  as  purely  negative,  and  attributes  it  to 
nothing  but  space,  duration  and  number  ; Penn  derived 
the  idea  from  the  soul,  and  ascribed  it  to  truth  and 
virtue  and  God.  Locke  declares  immortality  a matter 
with  which  reason  has  nothing  to  do  ; and  that  revealed 
truth  must  be  sustained  by  outward  signs  and  visible  acts 
of  power  ; Penn  saw  truth  by  its  own  light  and  sum- 
moned the  soul  to  bear  witness  to  its  own  glory.” 


The  justice  of  the  comparison,  in  the  first  part  of  the 
above  extract,  of  Quakerism  with  Transcendentalism,  may 
be  disputed.  Some  may  be  of  opinion  that  inasmuch 
as  Quakerism  traces  the  source  of  the  Inner  Light  to  the 
supernatural  illumination  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  while  Tran- 
scendentalism regards  it  as  a natural  endowment  of  the 
human  mind,  the  two  are  fundamentally  opposed  while 
superficially  in  agreement.  However  this  may  be,  the 


120 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


practical  issues  of  the  two  coincide,  and  the  truth  of  the 
contrast  presented  between  the  philosophies,  designated 
by  the  name  of  Locke  on  the  one  side,  and  of  Penn  on 
the  other,  will  not  be  disputed.  Mr.  Bancroft’s  state- 
ment, though  dazzling,  is  exact.  It  was  made  in  1837. 
The  third  edition  -from  which  the  above  citation  was 
made,  was  published  in  1838,  the  year  of  Mr.  Emerson’s 
address  to  the  Divinity  students  at  Cambridge. 

Mr.  Emerson  had  shown  his  hand  plainly  several 
years  before.  In  1832  he  raised  the  whole  issue  in  the 
“epoch  making”  sermon,  in  which  he  advanced  the 
view  of  the  communion  service  that  led  to  his  resignation 
of  the  Christian  ministry.  His  elder  brother,  William, 
returning  from  his  studies  in  Germany,  was  turned  from 
the  profession  of  the  church  which  he  had  purposed 
entering,  to  the  law,  by  similar  scruples.  In  1834,  James 
Walker  printed  in  the  “ Christian  Examiner”  an  address, 
which  was  the  same  year  published  as  a tract,  by  the 
American  Unitarian  Association,  entitled  “The  Philos- 
ophy of  Man’s  Spiritual  Nature  in  regard  to  the  found- 
ations of  Faith,”  wherein  he  took  frankly  the  transcen- 
dental ground,  contending  : 


" That  the  existence  of  those  spiritual  faculties  and  ca- 
pacities which  are  assumed  as  the  foundation  of  religion 
in  the  soul  of  man,  is  attested,  and  put  beyond  controversy 
by  the  revelations  of  consciousness  ; that  religion  in  the 
soul,  consisting  as  it  does,  of  a manifestation  and  develop- 
ment of  these  spiritual  faculties  and  capacities,  is  as  much  ' 
a reality  in  itself,  and  enters  as  essentially  into  our  idea 
of  a perfect  man,  as  the  corresponding  manifestation 
and  development  of  the  reasoning  faculties,  a sense  of 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


121 


justice,  or  the  affections  of  sympathy  and  benevolence; 
and  that  “ from  the  acknowledged  existence  and  reality 
of  spiritual  impressions  or  perceptions,  we'  may  and  do 
assume  the  existence  and  reality  of  the  spiritual  world  ; 
just  as  from  the  acknowledged  existence  and  reality  of 
sensible  impressions  or  perceptions,  Ave  may  and  do 
assume  the  existence  and  realities  of  the  sensible  world.” 


In  this  discourse,  for  originally  it  was  a discourse,  the 
worst  species  of  infidelity  is  charged  to  the  “ Sensational  ” 
philosophy,  and  at  the  close,  the  speaker  in  impressive 
language,  said  : 

“ Let  us  hope  that  a better  philosophy  than  the 
degrading  sensualism  out  of  which  most  forms  of 
infidelity  have  grown,  will  prevail,  and  that  the  minds 
of  the  rising  generation  will  be  thoroughly  imbued  with 
it.  Let  it  be  a philosophy  which  recognizes  the  higher 
nature  of  man,  and  aims,  in  a chastened  and  reverential 
spirit,  to  unfold  the  mysteries  of  his  higher  life.  Let  it  be  a 
philosophy  which  comprehends  the  soul,  a soul  suscept- 
ible of  religion,  of  the  sublime  principle  of  faith,  of  a 
faith  which  ‘ entereth  into  that  within  the  veil.’  Let  it  be 
a philosophy  which  continually  • reminds  us  of  our 
intimate  relations  to  the  spiritual,  world  ; which  opens  to 
us  new  sources  of  consolation  in  trouble,  and  new 
sources  of  life  in  death — nay,  which  teaches  us  that  what 
we  call  death  is  but  the  dying  of  all  that  is  mortal,  that 
nothing  but  life  may  remain.” 

In  1840,  the  same  powerful  advocate  of  the  transcend- 
ental doctrine,  in  a discourse  before  the  alumni  of  the 
Cambridge  'Divinity  School,  declared  that  the  return  to 
a higher  order  of  ideas,  to  a living  faith  in  God,  in 
Christ,  and  in  the  church,  had  been  promoted  by  such 


122 


TRANSCEND  ENT ALTS M. 


men  as  Schleiermacher  and  De  Wette  ; gave  his  opinion 
that  the  religious  community  had  reason  to  look  with 
distrust  and  dread  on  a philosophy  which  limited  the 
ideas  of  the  human  mind  to  the  information  imparted 
by  the  senses,  and  denied  the  existence  of  spiritual 
elements  in  the  nature  of  man  ; and  again  welcomed  the 
philosophy  taught  in  England  by  Butler,  Reid'  and 
Coleridge  ; in  Germany,  by  Kant,  Jacobi  and  Schleier- 
macher ; in  France,  by  Cousin,  Jouffroy  and  Degerando. 
Such  words  from  James  Walker,  always  a favorite 
teacher  with  young  men,  a mind  of  judicial  authority 
in  the  liberal  community,  and  at  that  time  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  at  Harvard  College,  made  a deep 
impression.  When  he  said  : “ Men  may  put  down  Trans- 
cendentalism if  they  can,  but  they  must  first  deign  to 
comprehend  its  principles,”  the  most  conservative  began 
to  surmise  that  there  must  be  something  in  Transcend- 
entalism. 

But  before  this  the  movement  was  well  under  way. 
In  1836,  Emerson’s  “Nature”  broke  through  the 
shell  of  accepted  opinions  on  a very  essential  subject : 
true,  but  five  hundred  copies  were  sold  in  twelve  years  ; 
critics  and  philosophers  could  make  nothing  of  it ; but 
those  who  read  it  recognized  signs  of  a new  era,  even  if 
they  could  not  describe  them  ; and  many  who  did  not  read 
it  felt  in  the  atmosphere  the  change  it  introduced.  The 
idealism  of  the  little  book  was  uncompromising. 

“ In  the  presence  of  ideas  we  feel  that  the  outward 
circumstance  is  a dream  and  a shade.  Whilst  we  wait 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


I23 


in  this  Olympus  of  gods,  we  think  of  nature  as  an 
appendix  to  the  soul.  We  ascend  into  their  region, 
and  know  that  these  are  the  thoughts  of  the  Supreme 
Being.”  * * * “ Idealism  is  an  hypothesis  to  account 
for  nature  by  other  principles  than  those  of  carpentry  and 
chemistry.  It  acquaints  us  with  the  total  disparity 
between  the  evidence  of  our  own  being,  and  the  evidence 
of  the  world’s  being.  The  world  is  a divine  dream, 
from  which  we  may  presently  awake  to  the  glories  and 
certainties  of  day.” 

The  same  year,  George  Ripley  reviewed  in  the 
“ Christian  Examiner,”  Martineau’s  “ Rationale  of 
Religious  Enquiry.”  The  article  was  furiously  assailed 
in  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser.  Mr.  Ripley  replied  in 
the  paper  of  the  next  day,  vindicating  the  ideas  of  the 
review  and  of  the  book  as  being  strictly  in  consonance 
with  the  principles  of  liberal  Christianity. 

In  18^8  came  the  wonderful  “address”  before  the 
Cambridge  Divinity  School,  which  stirred  the  soul  of 
aspiring  young  men,  and,  wakened  the  wrath  of  sedate 
old  ones.  It  was  idealism  in  its  full  blaze,  and  it  made 
the  germs  of  Transcendentalism  struggle  in  the  sods. 

The  next  year  Andrews  Norton  attacked  the  new 
philosophy  in  a discourse  before  the  same  audience,  on 
“ The  Latest  Form  of  Infidelity.”  The  doctrine  of  that 
discourse  was  “Sensationalism”  in  its  boldest  aspect. 

“ Christ  was  commissioned  by  God  to  speak  to  us 
in  His  name,  and  to  make  known  to  us,  on  His  authority, 
those  truths  which  it  most  concerns  us  to  know  ; and 
there  can  be  no  greater  miracle  than  this.  No  proof  of 
His  divine  commission  could  be  afforded  but  through 
miraculous  displays  of  God’s  power.  Nothing  is  left  that 


124 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


can  be  called  Christianity,  if  its  miraculous  character  be 
denied.  Its  essence  is  gone  ; its  evidence  is  annihilated.” 
* * “ To  the  demand  for  certainty  let  it  come  from 
whom  it  may,  I answer  that  I know  of  no  absolute 
certainty  beyond  the  limit  of  momentary  consciousness  ; 
a certainty  that  vanishes  the  instant  it  exists,  and  is  lost 
in  the  region  of  metaphysical  doubt.”  . . . “There 

can  be  no  intuition,  no  direct  perception  of  the  truth  of 
Christianity,  no  metaphysical  certainty.”  . . . “ Of 

the  facts  on  which  religion  is  founded,  we  can  pretend 
to  no  assurance  except  that  derived  from  the  testimony 
of  God  from  the  Christian  revelation.” 

A pamphlet  defending  the  discourse  contained  pass- 
ages like  the  following:  “The  doctrine  that  the  mind 
possesses  a faculty  of  intuitively  discovering  the  truths  of 
religion,  is  not  only  utterly  untenable,  but  the  proposi- 
tion is  of  such  a character  that  it  cannot  well  bear  the  test 
of  being  distinctly  stated.  The  question  respecting  the 
existence  of  such  a faculty  is  not  difficult  to  be  decided. 
We  are  not  conscious  of  possessing  any  such  faculty  ; 
and  there  can  be  no  other  proof  of  its  existence.  Its 
defenders  shrink  from  presenting  it  in  broad  daylight. 
They  are  disposed  to  keep  it  out  of  view  behind  a cloud 
of  words.”  . . “ Consciousness  or  intuition  can 

inform  us  of  nothing  but  what  exists  in  our  own  minds, 
including  the  relations  of  our  own  ideas.  It  is  therefore 
not  an  intelligible  error,  but  a mere  absurdity  to  main- 
tain that  we  are  conscious,  or  have  an  intuitive  know- 
ledge of  the  being  of  God,  of  our  own  immortality,  of 
the  revelation  of  God  through  Christ,  or  of  any  other  fact 
of  religion.”  . . . “The  religion  of  which  they 

(the  Transcendentalists)  speak,  therefore,  exists  merely, 
if  it  exist  at  all,  in  undefined  and  unintelligible  feelings, 
having  reference,  perhaps,  to  certain  imaginations,  the 
result  of  impressions  communicated  in  childhood  or 
produced  by  the  visible  signs  of  religious  belief  existing 
around  us,  or  awakened  by  the  beautiful  and  magnificent 
spectacles  which  nature  presents.” 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


125 


Mr.  Norton  spoke  with  biting  severity  of  the  masters 
of  German  philosophy,  criticism,  and  literature,  and 
exhausted  his  sarcasm  on  the  address  of  Mr.  Emerson 
delivered  the  previous  year.  To  Mr.  Norton,  Mr. 
Ripley  made  prompt  and  earnest,  though  temperate, 
reply  in  three  long  and  powerful  letters,  devoted  mainly 
to  a refutation  of  his  adversary’s  accusations  against 
Spinoza,  Schleiermacher,  De  Wette,  and  the  philosophic 
theologians  of  Germany.  Not  till  the  end  does  he  take 
issue  with  the  fundamental  positions  of  Mr.  Norton’s 
philosophy;  then  he  brands  as  “revolting”  the  doctrine 
that  “there  can  be  no  intuition,  no  direct  perception  of 
the  truth  of  Christianity;”  that  “the  feeling  or  direct 
perception  of  religious  truth  ” is  an  “ imaginary  faculty  ;” 
and  affirms  his  conviction  that  “ the  principle  that  the 
soul  has  no  faculty  to  perceive  spiritual  truth,  is  con- 
tradicted by  the  universal'consciousness  of  man.” 

“Does  the  body  see,”  he  asks,  “and  is  the  spirit 
blind?  No,  man  has  the  faculty  for  feeling  and  per- 
ceiving religious  truth.  So  far  from  being  imaginary, 
it  is  the  highest  reality  of  which  the  pure  soul  is 
conscious.  Can  I be  more  certain  that  I am  capable 
of  looking  out  and  admiring  the  forms  of  external 
beauty,  ‘ the  frail  and  weary  weed  in  which  God  dresses 
the  soul  that  he  has  called  into  time,’  than  that  I can 
also  look  within,  and  commune  with  the  fairer  forms 
of  truth  and  holiness  which  plead  for  my  love,  as 
visitants  from  Heaven  ? ” 

The  controversy  was  taken  up  by  other  pens.  In 
1840,  Theodore  Parker,  speaking  as  a plain  man  under 
the  name  of  Levi  Blodgett,  “moved  and  handled  the 


1 26 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Previous  Question  ” after  a fashion  that  betrayed  the 
practised  thinker  and  scribe.  Mr.  Parker  occupied  sub- 
stantially the  same  ground  that  was  taken  by  James 
Walker  in  1834. 

“The  germs  of  religion,  both  the  germs  of  religious 
principle  and  religious  sentiment,  must  be  born  in  man, 
or  innate,  as  our  preacher  says.  I reckon  that  man 
is  by  nature  a religious  being,  i.  e.  that  he  was  made 
to  be  religious,  as  much  as  an  ox  was  made  to  eat  grass. 
The  existence  of  God  is  a fact  given  in  our  nature  : it  is 
not  something  discovered  by  a process  of  reasoning, 
by  a long  series  of  deductions  from  facts  ; nor  yet  is 
it  the  last  generalization  from  phenomena  observed  in 
the  universe  of  mind  or  matter.  But  it  is  a truth  funda- 
mental in  our  nature  ; given  outright  by  God  ; a truth 
which  comes  to  light  as  soon  as  self-consciousness 
begins.  Still  further,  I take  a sense  of  dependence  on 
God  to  be  a natural  and  essential  sentiment  of  the  soul, 
as  much  as  feeling,  seeing  and  hearing  are  natural 
sensations  of  the  body.  Here,  then,  are  the  religious 
instincts  which  lead  man  to  God  and  religion,  just  as 
naturally  as  the  intellectual  instincts  lead  him  to  truth, 
and  animal  instincts  to  his  food.  As  there  is  light  for 
the  eye,  sound  for  the  ear,  food  for  the  palate,  friends  for 
the  affections,  beauty  for  the  imagination,  truth  for  the 
reason,  duty  for  conscience — so  there  is  God  for  the 
religious  sentiment  or  sense  of  dependence  on  Him. 
Now  all  these  presuppose  one  another,  as  a want  es- 
sential to  the  structure  of  man’s  mind  or  body  pre- 
supposes something  to  satisfy  it.  And  as  the  sensation 
of  hunger  presupposes  food  to  satisfy  it,  so  the  sense 
of  dependence  on  God  presupposes  his  existence  and 
character.” 

From  these  premises  Mr.  Parker  proceeds  to  discuss 
the  questions  about  miracles,  inspiration,  revelation,  the 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


129 

nothing,  but  was  completely  at  the  mercy  of  every 
novelty  in  speculation.  That  others  thought  as  he  did, 
was  enough  to  make  him  think  otherwise ; that  he 
thought  as  he  had  six  months  before  was  a signal  that  it 
was  time  for  him  to  strike  his  tent  and  move  on.  An 
experimenter  in  systems,  a taster  of  speculations,  he 
passed  rapidly  from  one  phase  to  another,  so  that  his 
friends  ascribed  his  steadfastness  to  Romanism,  to  the 
fatigue  of  intellectual  travelling.  Mr.  Brownson  was 
born  in  Stockbridge,  Vt.,  Sept.  16,  1803.  His  educa- 
tion was  scanty ; his  nurture  was  neglected ; his 
discipline,  if  such  it  can  be  called,  was  to  the  last  degree 
unwise.  The  child  had  visions,  fancied  he  had  received 
communications  from  the  Christ,  and  held  spiritual 
intercourse  with  the  Virgin  Mary,  Angels  and  Saints. 
Of  a sensitive  nature  on  the  moral  and  spiritual  side, 
interested  from  boyhood  in  religious  speculations,  he 
had,  before  he  reached  man’s  estate,  asked  and  answered, 
in  his  own  passionate  way,  all  the  deepest  questions  of 
destiny.  At  the  age  of  21,  he  passed  from  Super- 
naturalism to  Rationalism;  at  22  became  a Universalist 
minister;  at  28  adopted  what  he  called  “The  Religion 
of  Humanity  ;”  the  year  following,  joined  the  Unitarian 
ministry.  At  this  time  he  studied  French  and  German, 
and  became  fervidly  addicted  to  philosophy.  Benjamin 
Constant’s  theory  of  religion  fascinated  him  by  its 
brilliant  generalizations,  and  its  novel  readings  of 
Mythology,  and  was  immediately  adopted  because  it 
interested  him  and  fell  in  with  his  mood  of  mind  In 
1833,  he  accepted  Cousin's  philosophy  as  he  had  accepted 


7'R.  1 NSCENDENTA  LISM. 


130 

Constant’s,  “attending  to  those  things  that  I could 
appropriate  to  my  purposes.”  In  1836  he  organized  the 
“ Society  for  Christian  Union  and  Progress  ” in  Boston, 
and  continued  to  be  its  minister  till  1843.  All  this  time 
he  was  dallying  with  Socialism,  principally  in  the  form 
of  St.  Simonianism  ; thought  of  himself  as  possibly  the 
precursor  of  the  Messiah  ; threw  out  strange  heresies  on 
the  subject  of  property  and  the  modern  industrial  system  ; 
and  was  suspected,  he  declared  afterwards  unjustly 
suspected,  of  holding  loose  opinions  on  love  and 
marriage.  “ New  Views  of  Christianity,  Society  and 
the  Church,”  appeared  in  1836,  a little  book,  written  in 
answer  to  objections  brought  against  Christianity  as 
being  a system  of  extravagant  spiritualism.  This  idea 
Mr.  Brownson  combated,  by  pointing  out  the  true 
character  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  as  contrasted  with  the 
schemes  that  had  borne  his  name,  exposing  the  corrup- 
tions it  had  undergone,  during  the  succeeding  ages, 
from  Protestantism  as  well  as  from  Romanism,  and 
indicating  the  method  and  the  signs  of  a return  to  the 
primeval  faith  which  reconciled  God  and  man,  spirit  and 
matter,  soul  and  body,  heaven  and  earth,  in  the^  estab- 
lishment of  just  relations  between  man  and  man,  the 
institution  of  a simply  human  state  of  society. 

“Charles  Elwood,  or  The  Infidel  Converted,”  was 
published  in  1840.  Two  or  three  passages  from  this 
theological  discussion,  thinly  masked  in  the  guise  of  a 
novel,  will  suffice  to  class  the  author  with  Transcenden- 
talists  of  the  advanced  school. 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


i.ti 


“They  who  deny  to  man  all  inherent  capacity  to 
know  God,  all  immediate  perception  of  spiritual  truth, 
place  man  out  of  the  condition  of  ever  knowing  any- 
thing of  God.”  . ...  “ There  must  be  a God  within 
to  recognize  and  vouch  for  the  God  who  speaks  to  us 
from  without.”  . . . . “I  hold  that  the  ideas  or  con- 
ceptions which  man  attempts  to  embody  or  realize  in  his 
forms  of  religious  faith  and  worship,  are  intuitions  of 
reason.”  “ I understand'  by  inspiration  the  spontaneous 
revelations  of  the  reason  ; and  I call  these  revelations 
divine,  because  I hold  the  reason  to  be  divine.  Its 
voice  is  the  voice  of  God,  and  what  it  reveals  without 
any  aid  from  human  agency,  is  really  and  truly  a 
divine  revelation.”  ....  “This  reason  is  in  all  men. 
Hence  the  universal  beliefs  of  mankind,  the  univers- 
ality of  the  belief  in  God  and  religion.  Hence,  too,  the 
power  of  all  men  to  judge  of  supernatural  revelations.” 
. . . “All  are  able  to  detect  the  supernatural,  because 
all  have  the  supernatural  in  themselves.” 

The  “ Boston  Quarterly,”  was  maintained  five  years, — 
from  1838  to  1842  inclusive, — and  consequently  covered 
this  period.  It  would  therefore  be  safe  to  assume,  what 
the  volumes  themselves  attest,  that  whatever  subject 
was  dealt  with, — and  all  conceivable  subjects  were  dealt 
with, — were  handled  by  the  transcendental  method. 
In  the  “ Christian  World,”  a short-lived  weekly,  published 
by  a brother  of  Dr.  W.  E.  Channing,  Mr.  Brownson 
began  the  publication  of  a series  of  articles  on  the 
“Mission  of  Jesus.”  Seven  were  admitted;  the  eighth 
was  declined  as  being  “Romanist”  in  its  outlook.  In 
1844,  the  writer  avowed  himself  a Roman  Catholic,  and 
was  confirmed  in  Boston,  October  20th.  The  “ Convert,” 
which  contains  the  spiritual  biography  of  this  extraor- 


Pi  2 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


dinary  man,  and  from  which  the  above  facts  in  his  mental 
history  are  partly  taken,  was  published  in  1857,.  The 
Romanist  was  at  that  time  essentially  a Transcendental- 
ist.  “ Truth,”  he  writes,  “is  the  mind’s  object,  and  it 
seeks  and  accepts  it  intuitively,  as  the  new-born 
child  seeks  the  mother’s  breast  from  which  it  draws  its 
nourishment.  The  office  of  proof  or  even  demon- 
stration is  negative  rather  than  affirmative.”  Mr. 
Brownson  was  the  most  eminent  convert  to  Romanism 
of  this  period,  when  conversions  were  frequent  in 
Boston  ; and  his  influence  was  considerable  in  turning 
uneasy  minds  to  the  old  faith.  He  was  a powerful 
writer  and  lecturer,  an  occasional  visitor  at  Brook  Farm, 
but  his  mental  baselessness  perhaps  repelled  nearly  as 
many  as  his  ingenuity  beguiled. 

The  literary  achievements  of  Transcendentalism  are 
best  exhibited  in  the  “ Dial,”  a quarterly  “ Magazine 
for  Literature,  Philosophy  and  Religion,”  begun  July, 
1840,  and  ending  April,  1844.  The  editors  were  Mar- 
garet Fuller  and  R.  W.  Emerson  ; the  contributors  were 
the  bright  men  and  women  who  gave  voice  in  literary 
form  to  the  various  utterances  of  the  transcendental 
■ thus.  Mr.  Emerson’s  bravest  lectures  and  noblest 
poems  were  first  printed  there.  Margaret  Fuller, 
besides  numerous  pieces  of  miscellaneous  criticism, 
contributed  the  article  on  Goethe,  alone  enough  to 
establish  her  fame  as  a discerner  of  spirits,  and  the  paper 
on  “The  Great  Lawsuit;  Man  versus  Men — Woman 
versus  Women,”  which  was  afterwards  expanded  into 
the  book  “Woman  in  the  XIXth  century.”  Bronson 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


133 


Alcott  sent  in  chapters  the  “ Orphic  Sayings,”  which 
were  an  amazement  to  the  uninitiated  and  an  amusement 
to  the  profane.  Charles  Emerson,  younger  brother  of 
the  essayist,  whose  premature  death  was  bewailed  by 
the  admirers  of  intellect  and  the  lovers  of  pure  charac- 
ter, proved  by  his  “ Notes  from  the  Journal  of  a Scholar,” 
that  genius  was  not  confined  to  a single  member  of  his 
family.  George  Ripley,  James  Freeman  Clarke, 
Theodore  Parker,  Wm.  H.  Charming,  Henry  Thoreau, 
Eliot  Cabot,  John  S.  Dwight  the  musical  critic,  C.  P. 
Cranch  the  artist-poet,  Wm.  E.  Channing,  were  liberal 
of  contributions,  all  in  characteristic  ways  ; and  unnamed 
men  and  women  did  their  part  to  fill  the  numbers  of 
this  most  remarkable  magazine.  The  freshest  thoughts 
on  all  subjects  were  brought  to  the  editors’  table  ; social 
tendencies  were  noticed  ; books  were  received ; the 
newest  picture,  the  last  concert,  was  passed  upon ; 
judicious  estimates  were  made  of  reforms  and  reformers 
abroad  as  well  as  at  home  ; the  philosophical  discussions 
were  able  and  discriminating ; the  theological  papers 
were  learned,  broad  and  fresh.  The  four  volumes  are 
exceedingly  rich  in  poetry,  and  poetry  such  as  seldom 
finds  a place  in  popular  magazines.  The  first  year’s 
issue  contained  sixty-six  pieces  ; the  second,  thirty-five  ; 
the  third,  fifty;  the  fourth,  thirty-three;  among  these 
were  Emerson’s  earliest  inspirations.  The  “ Problem,” 
'‘Wood-notes,”  “The  Sphinx,”  “Saadi,”  “Ode  to 
Beauty,”  “To  Rhea,”  first  appeared  in  the  “Dial.” 
Harps  that  had  long  been  silent,  unable  to  make  them- 
selves heard  amid  the  din  of  the  later  generation,  made 


134 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


their  music  here.  For  Transcendentalism  was  essentially 
p *etical  and  put  its  thoughts  naturally  into  song.  The 
poems  in  the  “ Dial,”  even  leaving  out  the  famous  ones 
that  have  been  printed  since  with  their  authors’  names, 
would  make  an  interesting  and  attractive  volume.  Flow 
surprised  would  some  of  those  writers  be  if  they  should 
now  in  their  prosaic  days  read  what  then  they  wrote 
under  the  spell  of  that  fine  frenzy  ! 

The  following  mystic  poem,  which  might  have  come 
from  an  ancient  Egyptian,  dropped  from  one  who  has 
since  become  distinguished  for  something  very  different 
from  mysticism.  Has  he  seen  it  these  many  years? 
Can  he  believe  that  he  was  ever  in  the  mood  to  write  it  ? 
It  is  called 

VIA  SACRA. 

Slowly  along  the  crowded  street  I go, 

Marking  with  reverent  look  each  passer’s  face, 

Seeking  and  not  in  vain,  in  each  to  trace 
That  primal  soul  whereof  he  is  the  show. 

For  here  still  move,  by  many  eyes  unseen, 

The  blessed  gods  that  erst  Olympus  kept. 

Through  every  guise  these  lofty  forms  serene 
Declare  the  all-holding  life  hath  never  slept, 

But  known  each  thrill  that  in  man’s  heart  hath  been, 

And  every  tear  that  his  sad  eyes  have  wept. 

Alas  for  us  ! the  heavenly  visitants, — 

We  greet  them  still  as  most  unwelcome  guests 
Answering  their  smile  with  hateful  looks  askance, 

Their  sacred  speech  with  foolish,  bitter  jests  ; 

But  oh ! what  is  it  to  imperial  Jove 
That  this  poor  world  refuses  all  his  love  ? 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


*35 


A remarkable  feature  of  the  “ Dial”  were  the  chapters 
of  “ Ethnical  Scriptures,”  seven  in  all,  containing  texts 
from  the  Veeshnu  Sarma,  the  laws  of  Menu,  Confucius, 
the  Desatir,  the  Chinese  “ Four  Books,”  Hermes  Tris- 
megistus,  the  Chaldsean  Oracles.  Thirty-five  years 
ago,  these  Scriptures,  now  so  accessible,  and  in  portions 
so  familiar,  were  known  to  the  few,  and  were  esteemed 
by  none  but  scholars,  whose  enthusiasm  for  ancient 
literature  got  the  better  of  their  religious  faith.  To 
read  such  things  then,  showed  an  enlightened  and 
courageous  mind  ; to  print  them  in  a magazine  under 
the  sacred  title  of  “Scriptures”  argued  a most  extra- 
ordinary breadth  of  view.  In  offering  these  chapters  to 
its  readers,  without  apology  and  on  their  intrinsic  merits, 
Transcendentalism  exhibited  its  power  to  overpass  the 
limits  of  all  special  religions,  and  do  perfect  justice  to 
all  expressions  of  the  religious  sentiment. 

The  creed  of  Transcendentalism  has  been  sufficiently 
indicated.  It  had  a creed,  and  a definite  one.  In  his 
lecture  on  “The  Transcendentalist,”  read  in  1841,  Mr. 
Emerson  seems  disposed  to  consider  Transcendentalism 
merely  as  a phase  of  idealism. 

“Shall  we  say  then  that  Transcendentalism  is  the 
Saturnalia  or  excess  of  Faith  ; the  presentment  of  a 
faith  proper  to  man  in  his  integrity,  excessive  only  when 
his  imperfect  obedience  hinders  the  satisfaction  of  hi 
wit.  Nature  is  Transcendental,  exists  primarily,  neces- 
sarily, ever  works  and  advances  ; yet  takes  no  thought 
for  the  morrow.  Man  owns  the  dignity  of  the  life  which 
throbs  around  him  in  chemistry,  and  tree,  and  animal, 
and  in  the  involuntary  functions  of  his  own  body;  yet 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


136 

he  is  balked  when  he  tries  to  fling  himself  into  this 
enchanted  circle,  where  all  is  done  without  degradation. 
Yet  genius  and  virtue  predict  in  man  the  same  absence 
of  private  ends,  and  of  condescension  to  circumstances, 
united  with  every  trait  and  talent  of  beauty  and 
power.”  * * * “This  way  of  thinking,  falling  on 

Roman  times,  made  stoic  philosophers  ; falling  on  des- 
potic times  made  patriot  Catos  and  Brutuses  ; falling 
on  superstitious  times,  made  prophets  and  apostles  ; 
on  popish  times,  made  protestants  and  ascetic  monks  ; 
preachers  of  Faith  against  preachers  of  Works  ; on 
prelatical  times,  made  Puritans  and  Quakers  ; and  falling 
on  Unitarian  and  commercial  times,  makes  the  peculiar 
shades  of  Idealism  which  we  know.” 

It  is  audacious  to  criticize  Mr.  Emerson  on  a point 
ike  this  ; but  candor  compels  the  remark  that  the  above 
description  does  less  than  justice  to  the  definiteness  of 
the  transcendental  movement.  It  was  something  more 
ban  a reaction  against  formalism  and  tradition,  though 
it  took  that  form.  It  was  more  than  a reaction  against 
Puritan  Orthodoxy,  though  in  part  it  was  that.  It  was 
in  a very  small  degree  due  to  study  of  the  ancient 
pantheists,  of  Plato  and  the  Alexandrians,  of  Plutarch, 
Seneca  and  Epictetus,  though  one. or  two  of  the  leaders 
^had  drunk  deeply  from  these  sources.  Transcendentalism 
was  a distinct  philosophical  system.  Practically  it  was 
an  assertion  of  the  inalienable  wtrrth  of  man  ; theoreti- 
cally it  was  an  assertion  of  the  immantnee  of  divinity 
in  instinct,  the  transference  of  supernatural  attributes  to 
^he  natural  constitution  of  mankind. 

Such  a faith  would  necessarily  be  protean  in  its  aspects. 
Philosopher,  Critic,  Moralist,  Poet,  would  give  it  voice 


NEW  ENGLAND. 


141 

more  reasonable  in  their  expectations,  than  they  would 
have  been  if  Margaret  Fuller  and  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 
and  Theodore  Parker  and  George  Ripley  and  Bronson 
Alcott,  and  the  rest  of  their  fellow  believers  and  fellow 
workers  had-  not  lived.  It  is  the  fashion  of  our  gener- 
ation to  hold  that  progress  is,  and  must  of  necessity  be, 
exceedingly  gradual ; and  that  no  safe  advance  is  ever 
made  except  at  snail’s  pace.  But  ever  and  anon  the 
mind  of  man  refutes  the  notion  by  starting  under  the 
influence  of  a thought,  and  leaping  over  long  reaches  of 
space  at  a bound.  Transcendentalism  gave  one  of  these 
demonstrations,  sufficient  to  refute  the  vulgar  prejudice. 
Its  brief  history  may  have  illustrated  the  truth  of 
Wordsworth’s  lines, 

“ That  ’ tis  a thing  impossible  to  frame 
Conceptions  equal  to  the  Soul’s  desires ; 

And  the  most  difficult  of  tasks  to  keep 
Heights  which  the  Soul  is  competent  to  gain.” 

The  heights  were  gained  nevertheless,  and  kept  long 
nough  for  a view  of  the  land  of  promise  ; and  ever  since, 
bought  the  ascent  is  a dim  recollection,  and  the  great 
(‘-ms  have  come  to  look  like  images  in  dreams,  and  the 
n<ghty  voices  are  but  ghostly  echoes,  men  and  women 
nave  been  happy  in  laboring  for  the  heaven  their  fathers 
believed  they  saw. 


VII. 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 

Mr.  EMERSON — we  find  ourselves  continually  appeal- 
ing to  him  as  the  finest  interpreter  of  the  transcendental 
movement — made  a confession  which  its  enemies  were 
quick  to  seize  on  and  turn  to  their  purpose. 


“ It  is  a sign  of  our  times,  conspicuous  to  the  coarsest 
observer,  that  many  intelligent  and  religious  persons 
withdraw  themselves  from  the  common  labors  and  com- 
petitions of  the  market  and  the  caucus,  and  betake  them- 
selves to  a certain  solitary  and  critical  way  of  living,  from 
which  no  solid  fruit  has  yet  appeared  to  justify  their 
separation.  They  hold  themselves  aloof ; they  feel  the 
disproportion  between  themselves  and  the  work  offered 
them,  and  they  prefer  to  ramble  in  the  country  and  per- 
ish of  ennui,  to  the  degradation  of  such  charities  and  such 
ambitions  as  the  city  can  propose  to  them.  They  are 
striking  work  and  crying  out  for  somewhat  worthy  to 
do.  They  are  lonely  ; the  spirit  of  their  writing  and 
conversation  is  lonely  ; they  repel  influences  ; they  shun 
general  society  ; they  incline  to  shut  themselves  in  their' 
chamber  in  the  house  ; to  live  in  the  country  rather  than 
in  the  town  ; and  to  find  their  tasks  and  amusements  in 
solitude.  They  are  not  good  citizens  ; not  good  mem- 
bers of  society  ; unwillingly  they  bear  their  part  of  the 
public  and  private  burdens  ; they  do  not  willingly  share 
in  the  public  charities,  in  the  public  religious  rites,  in 
the  enterprises  of  education,  of  missions,  foreign  or 
domestic,  in  1 he  abolition  of  the  slave  trade,  or  in  the 


PR  A C TIC AZ\  TENDENCIES. 


r43 


temperance  society.  They  do  not  even  like  to  vote. 
The  philanthropists  inquire  whether  Transcendentalism 
does  not  mean  , sloth  ; they  had  as  lief  hear  that  their 
friend  is  dead  as  what  he  is  a Transcendentalist  ; for  then 
is  he  paralyzed,  ant1  Can  do  nothing  for  humanity.” 

This  extreme  statement  must  not  be  taken  as  eithc ' 
complete  or  comprehensive^  They  who  read  it  in  the 
lecture  on  “ The  Transcendent talist  ” must  be  careful  to 
notice  Mr.  Emerson’s  qualifkatuHns,  that  “ this  retire- 
ment does  not  proceed  from  any  whii\^  0n  the  part  of  the 
separators;”  that  “ this  part  is  chosen  both  from  tem- 
perament and  from  principle  ; with  some  unwillingness 
too,  and  as  a choice  of  the  less  of  two  evils  ‘ .<  that  they 
are  joyous,  susceptible,  affectionate  that  “tn't^y  wish 
a just  and  even  fellowship  or  none  that  “what  they 
do  is  done  because  they  are  overpowered  by  the  human- 
ities that  speak  on  all  sides  that  “ what  you  call  your 


fundamental  institutions,  your  great  and  holy  causes, 
seem  to  them  great  abuses,  and,  when  nearly  seen, 
paltry  matters.”  But  even  this  apology  does  not  quite 
exonerate  his  friends. 

Transcendentalism  certainly  did  produce  its  share  ot 
idle,  dreamy,  useless  people — as  “ Sensationalism  ” pro- 
duced its  share  of  coarse,  greedy,  low-lived  and  bestial 
ones.  But  its  legitimate  fruit  was  earnestness,  aspiration 
and  enthusiastic  energy.  • 

We  must  begin  with  the  philosophy  of  Man.  The 
Transcendentalist  claims  for  all  men  as  a natural  endow- 
ment what  “Evangelical”  Christianity  ascribes  to  the 
few  as  a special  gift  of  the  Spirit.  This  faith  comes  to/ 


144 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


expression  continually, 
with  it. 


are  alight 


The  numbers  of  tb fe  “Dial” 


“Man  is  a rudiment  and  embryon  of  God  : Eternity 
shall  develop  in  him  the  Divine  Ima.ge.” 

“ The  Soul  works  from  centre  to  periphery,  veiling  her 
labors  from  the  ken  of  the  senses.” 

Ihe  sensible  world  is  sp;  frit  in  magnitude  outspread 
before  the  senses  for  their  'analysis,  but  whose  synthesis 
is  the  soul  herself,  whos^i  prothesis  is  God.” 

“ The  time  may  coeme,  in  the  endless  career  of  the 
soul,  when  the  facts  , of  incarnation,  birth,  death,  descent 
into  matter,  and  ascension  from  it,  shall  comprise  no 
part  of  her  history;  when  she  herself  shall  survey  this 
human  life  w:  ith  emotions  akin  to  those  of  the  naturalist 
on  examining  the  relics  of  extinct  races  of  beings.” 

_ “Oft*  me  perception  now  fast  becoming  a conscious 
fact,— ^ that  there  is  one  mind,  and  that  also  the  powers 
and,f  privileges  which  lie  in  any,  lie  in  all ; that  I,  as  a 
nyvan,  may  claim  and  appropriate  whatever  of  true  or  fair 
or  good  or  strong  has  anywhere  been  exhibited  ; that 
Moses  and  Confucius,  Montaigne  and  Leibnitz  are  not  so 
much  individuals  as  they  are  parts  of  man  and  parts  of 
me,  and  my  intelligence  proves  them  my  own, — litera- 
ture is  far  the  best  expression.” 


Thus  Mr.  Alcott  and  Mr.  Emerson.  Thomas  T.  Stone, 
— a modest,  retiring,  deep  and  interior  man,  a child  of  the 
spiritual  philosophy,  which  he  faithfully  lived  in  and  up 
to,  and  preached  with  singular  fulness  and  richness  of 
power — makes  his  statement  thus,  in  an  article  entitled 
“ Man  in  the  Ages,”  contributed  to  the  third  number  of 
the  “ Dial  ” : 

“ Man  is  man,  despite  of  all  the  lies  which  would  con- 
vince him  he  is  not,  despite  of  all  the  thoughts  which 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


T45 


would  strive  to  unman  him.  There  is  a spirit  in  man.  an 
inspiration  from  the  Almighty.  What  is,  is.  The  eter- 
nal is  eternal  ; the  temporary  must  pass  it  by,  leaving  it 
to  stand  evermore.  There  is  now,  there  has  been  always, 
power  among.men  to  subdue  the  ages,  to  dethrone  them, 
to  make  them  mere  outgoings  and  servitors  of  man. 
It  is  needed  only  that  we  assert  our  prerogative, — that 
man  do  with  hearty  faith  affirm : ‘ I am  ; in  me  being  is. 

Ages,  ye  come  and  go;  appear  and  disappear;  pro- 
ducts, not  life  ; vapors  from  the  surface  of  the  soul,  not 
living  fountain.  Ye  are  of  me,  for  me,  not  I of  you  or 
for  you.  Not  with  you  my  affinity,  but  with  the  Eter- 
nal. I am  ; I live  ; spirit  I have  not  ; spirit  am  I.’  ” 

Samuel  D.  Robbins,  another  earnest  prophet  of  the 
spiritual  man,  utters  the  creed  again  in  the  way  peculiar 
to  himself. 

“There  is  an  infinity  in  the  human  soul  which  few 
have  yet  believed,  and  after  which  few  have  aspired. 
There  is  a lofty  power  of  moral  principle  in  the  depths 
of  our  nature  which  is  nearly  allied  to  Omnipotence  ; 
compared  with  which  the  whole  force  of  outward  nature 
is  more  feeble  than  an  infant’s  grasp.  There  is  a spirit- 
ual insight  to  which  the  pure  soul  reaches,  more  clear 
and  prophetic,  more  wide  and  vast  than  all  telescopic 
vision  can  typify.  There  is  a faith  in  God,  and  a clear 
perception  of  His  will  and  designs,  and  providence,  and 
glory,  which  gives  to  its  possessor  a confidence  and 
patience  and  sweet  composure,  under  every  varied  and 
troubling  aspect  of  events,  such  as  no  man  can  realize 
who  has  not  felt  its  influences  in  his  own  heart.  There 
is  a communion  with  God,  in  which  the  soul  feels  the 
presence  of  the  unseen  One,  in  the  profound  depths  of  its 
being,  with  a vivid  distinctness  and  a holy  reverence  such 
as  no  word  can  describe.  There  is  a state  of  union 
with  God,  I do  not  say  often  reached,  yet  it  has  been 
7 


1 46 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


attained  in  this  world,  in  which  all  the' past  and  present 
and  future  seem  reconciled,  and  eternity  is  won  and 
enjoyed  : and  God  and  man,  earth  and  heaven,  with  all 
their  mysteries  are  apprehended  in  truth  as  they  lie  in 
the  mind  of  the  Infinite.” 


The  poet  chimes  in  with  the  prophet.  We  marked 
for  quotation  several  passages  from  the  “Dial,”  but  a few 
detached  stanzas  must  suffice.  C.  P.  Cranch  opens  his 
lines  to  the  ocean  thus : 

Tell  me,  brothers,  what  are  we  ? 

Spirits  bathing  in  the  sea 
of  Deity. 

Half  afloat,  and  half  on  land, 

Wishing  much  to  leave  the  strand, 

Standing,  gazing  with  devotion, 

Yet  afraid  to  trust  the  ocean, 

Such  are  we. 

And  thus  he  closes  lines  to  the  Aurora  Borealis : 


But  a better  type  thou  art 
Of  the  strivings  of  the  heart, 
Reaching  upwards  from  the  earth 
To  the  Soul  that  gave  it  birth. 

When  the  noiseless  beck  of  night 
Summons  out  the  inner  light 
That  hath  hid  its  purer  ray 
Through  the  lapses  of  the  day, — 
Then  like  thee,  thou  Northern  Morn, 
Instincts  which  we  deemed  unborn 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


147 


Gushing  from  their  hidden  source 
Mount  upon  their  heavenward  course, 

And  the  spirit  seeks  to  be 
Filled  with  God’s  eternity. 

That  a philosophy  like  this  will  impel  to  aspiration 
need  not  be  said;  aspiration  is  the  soul  of  it.  The 
Transcendentalist  was  constantly  on  the  wing. 

“ On  all  hands  men’s  existence  is  converted  into  a 
preparation  for  existence.  We  do  not  properly  live,  in 
these  days  ; but  everywhere  with  patent  inventions  and 
complex  arrangements  are  getting  ready  to  live.  The 
end  is  lost  in  the  means,  life  is  smothered  in  appliance? 
We  cannot  get  to  ourselves,  there  are  so  many  external 
comforts  to  wade  through.  Consciousness  stops  half 
way.  Reflection  is  dissipated  in  the  circumstances  of 
our  environment.  Goodness  is  exhausted  in  aids  to 
goodness,  and  all  the  vigor  and  health  of  the  soul  is 
expended  in  quack  contrivances  to  build  it  up.”  * * * 
What  the  age  requires  is  not  books,  but  example,  high, 
heroic  example ; not  words  but  deeds  ; not  societies  but 
men — men  who  shall  have  their  root  in  themselves,  and 
attract  and  convert  the  world  by  the  beauty  of  their 
fruits.  All  truth  must  be  living,  before  it  can  be  ade- 
. quately  known  or  taught.  Men  are  anterior  to  systems. 
Great  doctrines  are  not  the  origin,  but  the  product  of 
great  lives.  The  Cynic  practice  must  precede  the  Stoic 
philosophy,  and  out  of  Diogenes’s  tub  came  forth  in  the 
end  the  wisdom  of  Epictetus,  the  eloquence  of  Seneca, 
and  the  piety  of  Antonine.”  * * * 

“The  religious  man  lives  for  one  great  object;  to 
perfect  himself,  to  unite  himself  by  purity  with  God,  to 
fit  himself  for  heaven  by  cherishing  within  him  a 
heavenly  disposition.  He  has  discovered  that  he  has  a 
soul ; that  his  soul  is  himself ; that  he  changes  not  with 
the  changing  things  of  life,  but  receives  its  discipline 


148 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


from  them  ; that  man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but 
that  the  most  real  of  all  things,  inasmuch  as  they  are 
the  most  enduring,  are  the  things  which  are  not  seen  ; 
that  faith  and  love  and  virtue  are  the  sources  of  his  life, 
and  that  one  realises  nothing,  except  he  lay  fast  hold  on 
them.  He  extracts  a moral  lesson,  a lesson  of  endur- 
ance or  of  perseverance  for  himself,  or  a new  evidence 
of  God  and  of  his  own  immortal  destiny,  from  every 
day’s  hard  task.” 


That  last  strain  came  from  the  man  who  for  many 
years  has  been  known  as  the  foremost  musical  critic  of 
New  England,  if  not  of  America,  John  S.  Dwight. 
Another  writes  : 


“The  soul  lies  buried  in  a ruined  city,  struggling  to 
be  free  and  calling  for  aid.  The  worldly  trafficker  in 
life’s  caravan  hears  its  cries,  and  says,  it  is  a prisoned 
maniac.  But  one  true  man  stops  and  with  painful  toil 
lifts  aside  the  crumbling  fragments  ; till  at  last  he  finds 
beneath  the  choking  mass  a mangled  form  of  exceeding 
beauty.  Dazzling  is  the  light  to  eyes  long  blind  ; weak 
are  the  limbs  long  prisoned  ; faint  is  the  breath  long 
pent.  But  oh!  that  mantling  flush,  that  liquid  eye,  that 
elastic  spring  of  renovated  strength.  The  deliverer  is 
folded  to  the  breast  of  an  angel.” 


^ The  duty  of  self-culture  is  made  primary  and  is 
eloquently  preached.  The  piece  from  which  this  extract 
i taken,  entitled  “ The  Art  of  Life  ” is  anonymous,  but 
supposed  to  be  from  Emerson’s  pen : 


“The  work  of  life,  so  far  as  the  individual  is  concerned, 
and  that  to  which  the  scholar  is  particularly  called,  is 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


149 


Self-Culture,  the  perfect  unfolding  of  our  individual 
nature.  To  this  end  above  all  others,  the  art  of  which 
I speak  directs  our  attention  and  points  our  endeavor. 
There  is  no  man,  it  is  presumed,  to  whom  this  object 
is  wholly  indifferent,  who  would  not  willingly  possess 
this  too,  along  with  other  prizes,  provided  the  attain- 
ment of  it  were  compatible  with  personal  ease  and 
worldly  good.  But  the  business  of  self-culture  admits 
of  no  compromise.  Either  it  must  be  made  a distinct 
aim  or  wholly  abandoned.” 


But  it  is  time  wasted  to  speak  on  this  point.  It  has 
been  objected  to  Transcendentalism  that  it  made  self- 
culture too  important,  carrying  it  to  the  point  of  selfish- 
ness, sacrificing  in  its  behalf,  sympathy,  brotherly  love, 
sentiments  of  patriotism,  personal  fidelity  and  honor, 
and  rejoicing  in  the  production  of  a “ mountainous  Me  " 
fed  at  the  expense  of  life’s  sweetest  humanities  ; and 
Goethe  is  straightway  cited  as  the  Transcendental 
apostle  of  the  gospel  of  heartless  indifference.  But 
allowing  the  charge  against  Goethe  to  rest  uurefuted,  it 
must  be  made  against  him  as  a man,  not  as  a Tran- 
scendentalist ; and  even  were  it  true  of  him  as  a Tran- 
scendentalist,  it  was  not  true  of  Kant  or  Fichte,  of 
Schleiermacher  or  Herder  ; of  Jean  Paul  or  Novalis  ; 
of  Coleridge,  Carlyle  or  Wordsworth  ; and  who  ever 
intimated  that  it  was  true  of  Emerson,  who  has  been 
one  of  the  most  industrious  teachers  of  his  generation, 
and  one  of  the  most  earnest  worshippers  of  the  genius 
of  his  native  land  ; — of  Margaret  Fuller,  whose  life  was 
a quickening  flood  of  intellectual  influence  ; — of  Bronson 
Alcott,  who,  every  winter  for  years,  has  carried  his 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


150 

seed  corn  to  the  far  West,  seeking  only  a receptive 
furrow  for  his  treasured  being  ; — of  Theodore  Parker, 
who  sacrificed  precious  days  of  study,  his  soul’s  passion 
for  knowledge,  his  honorable  ambition  to  achieve  a 
scholar’s  fame,  in  order  that  his  country,  in  her  time  of 
trial,  might  not  want  what  he  was  able  to  give  ; — of 
Wm.  Henry  Channing,  to  whom  the  thought  of  human- 
ity is  an  inspiration,  and  “ sacrifice  an  all  sufficing  joy ; ” — 
of  George  Ripley,  who  offered  himself,  all  that  he  had 
and  was,  that  the  experiment  of  an  honest  friendly  society 
/:  light  be  fairly  tried  ? By  “ self-culture  ” these  and  the 
rest  of  their  brotherhood  meant  the  culture  of  that 
nobler  self  which  includes  heart,,  and  conscience,  sym- 
pathy and  spirituality,  not  as  incidental  ingredients,  but 
as  essential  qualities.  Self-hood  they  never  identified 
with  selfishness  ; nor  did  they  ever  confound  or  associ- 
ate its  attainment  with  the  acquisition  of  place,  power, 
wealth,  or  eminent  repute;  the  person  was  more  to  them 
than  the  individual ; they  sought  no  reward  except  for 
service  ; and  the  consciousness  of  serving  faithfully  was 
their  best  reward. 

To  Transcendentalism  belongs  the  credit  of  inaugur- 
ating the  theory  and  practice  of  dietetics  which  is 
preached  so  assiduously  now  by  enlightened  physiol- 
ogists. The  people  who  regarded  man  as  a soul,  first 
taught  the  wisdom  that  is  now  inculcated  by  people  who 
regard  man  as  a body.  The  doctrine  that  human  beings 
live  on  air  and  light ; that  food  should  be  simple  and 
nutritious ; that  coarse  meats  should  be  discarded  and 
fiery  liquors  abolished  ; that  wines  should  be  substituted 


FRA  CTICAL  TENDENCIES.  1 5 1 

for  "spirits,”  light  wines  for  heavy,  and  pure  water  for 
wines; — has  in  all  ages  been  taught  by  mystics  and 
idealists.  The  ancient  master  of  it  was  Pythagoras. 
Their  idea  was,  that  as  the  body  was,  for  the  time  being, 
the  dwelling-place  of  the  soul,  its  lodging  and  home,  its 
prison  or  its  palace,  its  organ,  its  instrument,  its  box  of 
tools,  the  medium  of  its  activity,  it  must  be  kept  in 
perfect  condition  for  these  high  offices.  They  honored 
the  flesh  in  the  nobility  of  their  care  of  it.  No  sour 
ascetics  they,  but  generous  feeders  on  eisences  and 
elixirs  ; no  mortifiers  of  matter,  but  purifiers  and 
refiners  of  it ; regarding  it  as  too  exquisitely  mingled 
and  tempered  a substance  to  be  tortured  and  imbruted. 
The  materialist  prescribes  temperance,  continence,  so- 
briety, in  order  that  life  may  be  long,  and  comfortable, 
and  free  from  disease.  The  idealist  prescribes  them,  in 
order  that  life  may  be  intellectual,  serene,  pacific, 
beneficent. 

The  chief  mystic  of  the  transcendental  band  has 
been  the  chief  prophet  of  this  innocent  word.  "The 
New  Ideas,”  wrote  Mr.  Alcott,  “ bear  direct  on  all  the 
economies  of  life.  They  will  revise  old  methods,  and 
institute  new  cultures.  I look  with  special  hope  to  their 
effect  on  the  regimen  of  the  land.  Our  present  modes 
of  agriculture  exhaust  the  soil,  and  must,  while  life  is 
made  thus  sensual  and  secular;  the  narrow  covetousness 
which  prevails  in  trade,  in  labor,  in  exchanges,  ends  in 
depraving  the  land  ; it  breeds  disease,  decline,  in  the 
flesh, — debauches  and  consumes  the  heart.”  "The 
Soul’s  Banquet  is  an  art  divine.  To  mould  this  statue 


152 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


of  flesh  from  chaste  materials,  kneading  it  into  comeliness 
and  strength,  this  is  Promethean  ; and  this  we  practise, 
well  or  ill,  in  all  our  thoughts,  acts,  desires.  I would 
abstain  from  the  fruits  of  oppression  and  blood,  and  am 
seeking  means  of  entire  independence.  This,  were  I 
not  holden  by  penury  unjustly,  would  be  possible. 
One  miracle  we  have  wrought  nevertheless,  and  shall 
soon  work  all  of  them  ; — our  wine  is  water,— flesh, 
bread  ; — drugs,  fruits  ; — and  we  defy,  meekly,  the  satyrs 
all,  and  Esculapius.” 

“ It  was  the  doctrine  of  the  Samiaii  Sage,  that  what- 
soever food  obstructs  divination,  is  prejudicial  to  purity 
and  chastity  of  mind  and  body,  to  temperance,  health, 
sweetness  of  disposition,  suavity  of  manners,  grace  of 
form  and  dignity  of  carriage,  should  be  shunned. 
Especially  should  those  who  would  apprehend  the 
deepest  wisdom,  and  preserve  through  life  the  relish  for 
elegant  studies  and  pursuits,  abstain  from  flesh,  cherish- 
ing the  justice  which  animals  claim  at  men’s  hands,  nor 
slaughtering  them  for  food  or  profit.”  “ A purer  civil- 
ization than  ours  can  yet  claim  to  be,  is  to  inspire  the 
genius  of  mankind  with  the  skill  to  deal  dutifully  with 
soils  and  souls,  exalt  agriculture  and  manculture  into  a 
religion  of  art ; the  freer  interchange  of  commodities 
which  the  current  world-wide  intercourse  promotes, 
spreads  a more  various,  wholesome,  classic  table,  whereby 
the  race  shall  be  refined  of  traits  reminding  too  plainly  of 
barbarism  and  the  beast.”  Said  Timotheus  of  Plato, 
“ they  who  dine  with  the  philosopher  have  nothing  to 
complain  of  the  next  morning.”  That  the  doctrine  has 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES.  ' 1 53 

its  warm,  glowing  side,  appears  in  a characteristic  poem 
in  the  little  volume  called  “ Tablets.” 

The  anchorite’s  plea  was  not  always  as  good  as  his 
practice.  Arguing  the  point  once  with  a sagacious  man 
of  the  world,  he  urged  as  a reason  for  abstinence  from 
animal  food  that  one  thereby  distanced  the  animal. 
For  the  eating  of  beef  encouraged  the  bovine  quality, 
and  the  pork  diet  repeats  the  trick  of  Circe,  and 
changes  men  into  swine.  But,  rejoined  the  friend,  if 
abstinence  from  animal  food  leaves  the  animal  out, 
does  not  partaking  of  vegetable  food  put  the  vegetable 
in  ? I presume  the  potato  diet  will  change  man  into  a 
potato.  And  what  if  the  potatoes  be  small  ! The  philos- 
opher’s reply  is  not  recorded.  But  in  his  case  the  beast 
did  disappear,  and  the  leek  has  never  become  prominent. 

In  his  case  health,  strength,  agility,  sprightliness,  cheer- 
fulness, have  been  wholly  compatible  with  disuse  of 
animal  food.  Few  men  have  preserved  the  best  uses  of 
body  and  mind  so  long  unimpaired.  Few  have  lost  so 
few  days  ; have  misused  so  few ; are  able  to  give  a 
good  account  of  so  many.  The  vegetarian  of  seventy- 
six  shames  many  a cannibal  of  forty.  > 

The  Transcendentalist  was  by  nature  a reformer.  He 
could  not  be  satisfied  with  men  as  they  were.  His  doc- 
trine of  the  capacities  of  men,  even  in  its  most  moderate 
statement,  kindled  to  enthusiasm  his  hope  of  change./ 
However  his  disgust  may  have  kept  him  aloof  for  a 
time,  his  sympathy  soon  brought  him  back,  and  his 
faith  sent  him  to  the  front  of  the  battle.  In  beginning 
his  lecture  on  “ Man  The  Reformer,”  Mr  Emerson  does 


154 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


not  dissemble  his  hope  that  each  person  whom  he 
addresses  has  “ felt  his  own  call  to  cast  aside  all  evil 
customs,  timidities  and  limitations,  and  to  be  in  his  place 
a free  and  helpful  man,  a reformer,  a benefactor,  not 
content  to  slip  through  the  world  like  a footman  or  a 
spy,  escaping  by  his  nimbleness  and  apologies  as  many 
knocks  as  he  can,  but  a brave  and  upright  man,  who 
must  find  or  cut  a straight  path  to  everything  excellent 
in  the  earth,  and  not  only  go  honorably  himself,  but 
make  it  easier  for  all  who  follow  him,  to  go  in  honor  and 
with  benefit.”  “ The  power,  “ he  declares,”  which  is  at 
once  spring  and  regulator  in  all  efforts  of  reform,  is  the 
conviction  that  there  is  an  infinite  worthiness  in  man, 
which  will  appear  at  the  call  of  worth,  and  that  all  par- 
ticular reforms  are  the  removing  of  some  impediment. 
Is  it  not  the  highest  duty  that  man  should  be  honored 
in  us  ? “ In  the  history  of  the  world”  the  same  great 

teacher  remarks,  “ the  doctrine  of  Reform  had  never 
such  scope  as  at  the  present  hour.  Lutherans,  Herrn- 
hiitters.,  Jesuits,  Monks,  Quakers,  Knox,  Wesley, 
Swedenborg,  Bentham,  in  their  accusations  of  society, 
all  respected  something, — church  o.r  state,  literature  or 
history,  domestic  usages,  the  market  town,  the  dinner 
able,  coined  money.  But  now  all  these  and  all  things > 
else  hear  the  the  trumpet  and  must  rush  to  judgment, — 
Christianity,  the  laws,  commerce,  schools,  the  farm,  the 
laboratory:  and  not  a kingdom,  town,  statute,  rite, 
calling,  man,  or  woman  but  is  threatened  by  the  new 
spirit.”  “ Let  me  feel  that  I am  to  be  a lover.  I am  to 
see  to  it  that  the  world  is  the  better  for  me,  and  to  find 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


155 


my  reward  in  the  act.  Love  would  put  a new  face  on  this 
weary  old  world  in  which  Ave  dwell  as  pagans  and 
enemies  too  long,  and  it  would  warm  the  heart  to  see 
how  fast  the  vain  diplomacy  of  statesmen,  the  impotence 
of  armies,  and  navies,  and  lines  of  defence,  would  be 
superseded  by  this  unarmed  child.” 

The  method  of  reform  followed  from  the  principle.  It 
was  the  method  of  individual  awakening  and  regenera- 
tion, and  was  to  be  conducted  “ through  the  simplest 
ministries  of  family,  neighborhood,  fraternity,  quite  wide 
of  associations  and  institutions.”  The  true  reformer,”  it 
was  proclaimed,  “ initiates  his  labor  in  the  precincts  of 
private  life,  and  makes  it,  not  a set  of  measures,  not  an 
utterance,  not  a pledge  merely,  but  a life  ; and  not  an  im- 
pulse of  a day,  but  commensurate  Avith  human  existence  : 
a tendency  towards  perfection  of  being.  ” The  Transcen- 
dentalist  might  easily  become  an  enthusiast  from  excess 
of  faith  ; but  a fanatic,  with  a tinge  of  melancholy  in  his 
disposition,  a drop  of  malignity  in  his  blood,  he  coulc 
not  be.  He  Avas  less  a reformer  of  human  circumstance 
than  a regenerator  of  the  human  spirit,  and  he  Avas  neA'er 
a destroyer  except  as  destruction  accompanied  the  pro- 
cess of  regeneration. 

This  fine  positive  purpose  appeared  in  all  he  under- 
took. With  movements  that  did  not  start  from  this  prim- 
ary assumption  of  individual  dignity,  and  come  back  to 
that  as  their  goal,  he  had  nothing  to  do.  Was  he  an 
anti-slavery  man— and  he  Avas  certain  to  be  one  at  heart — 
theTranscendentalists  Avere  gloAving  friends  of  that  reform, 
* — he  Avas  so  because  his  philosophy  compelled  him  to  see 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


156 

in  the  slave  the  same  humanity  that  appeared  in  the 
master  ; in  the  African  the  same  possibilities  that  were 
confessed  in  the  Frank,  the  Anglo-Saxon,  and  the  Celt. 
Did  he  take  up  the  cause  ot  education,  it  was  as  a believ- 
er in  the  latent  capacity  of  every  child,  boy  or  girl ; as 
an  earnest  wisher  that  such  capacity  might  be  stimulated 
by  the  best  methods,  and  directed  to  the  best  ends. 
What  he  effected,  or  tried  to  effect  in  this  way  will  be 
understood  by  the  reader  of  the  record  of  Mr.  Alcott’s 
school ; that  bold  and  original  attempt  at  educating, 
leading  or  drawing  out  young  minds,  which  showed  such 
remarkable  promise,  and  would  have  achieved  such 
remarkable  results  had  more  faithful  trial  of  its  method 
been  possible.  Was  he  a reformer  of  society,  it  was  as 
a vitalizer,  not  as  a machinist. 

In  no  respect  does  the  Transcendentalisms  idea  of  social. 
Aeform  stand  out  more  conspicuously  than  in  this.  With 
an  incessant  and  passionate  aspiration  after  a pure  social 
state, — deeply  convinced  of  the  mistakes,  profoundly 
sensible  of  the  mi  eries  of  the  actual  condition,  he  would 
not  be  committed  to  experiments  that  did  not  assume 
his  first  principle — the  supreme  dignity  of  the  individual 
.man.  The  systems  of  French  socialism  he  distrusted  from 
the  first ; for  they  proceeded  on  the  ground  that  man  is 
not  a self  determined  being,  but  a creature  of  circum- 
stance. Mr.  Albert  Brisbane’s  attempt  to  domesticate 
Fourierism  among  us  was  cordially  considered,  but  not 
cordially  welcomed.  He  seemed  to  have  no  spiritual 
depth  of  foundation  ; his  proposition  to  imprison  man  in 
a Phalanx,  was  rejected  ; his  omission  of  moral  freedom 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


157 

in  the  scheme  was  resented;  no  sincerity,  no  keenness  of 
criticism,  no  exposure  of  existing  evils  or  indignation  of 
protest  against  then,  disarmed  the  jealousy  of  endeavors 
to  reconstruct  society,  as  if  human  beings  were  piles 
of  brick  or  lumps  of  mortar. 

In  1841  a community  was  planned  in  Massachussetts, 
by  Liberal  Christians  of  the  Universalist  sect.  Though 
never  put  in  operation  it  did  not  escape  the  criticism  of 
the  “ Dial.”  The  good  points  were  recognized  and  com- 
mended ; the  moral  features  were  praised  as  showing  a 
deep  insight  into  the  Christian  idea,  and  the  articles  of 
confederation  were  pronounced  admirable  in  judgment 
and  form,  with  a single  exception,  which  however  was 
fatal.  Admittance  of  members  was  conditioned  on  pledges 
of  non-resistance,  abolition,  temperance,  abstinence  from 
voting,  and  suchlike.  Though  these  conditions  were  easy 
enough  in  themselves,  and  were  expressed  in  the  most  con- 
ciliatory spirit,  they  were  justly  regarded  as  giving  to  the 
community  the  character  of  a church  or  party,  much  less 
than  world  embracing.  “A  true  community,”  it  was  de- 
clared, “ can  be  founded  on  nothing  short  of  faith  in  the 
universal  man,  as  he  comes  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
Creator,  with  no  law  over  his  liberty  but  the  eternal  ideas 
that  lie  at  the  foundation  of  his  being.”  “ The  final  cause 
of  human  society  is  the  unfolding  of  the  individual  man, 
into  every  form  of  perfection,  without  let  or  hindrance, 
according  to  the  inward  nature  of  each.” 

When  the  Brook  Farm  experiment  was  under  way 
at  West  Roxbury,  its  initiators  were  warned  against  three 
dangers  : the  first,  Organization,  which  begins  by  being 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


153 

an  instrument  and  ends  by  being  a master ; the  second, 
Endowment , which  promises  to  be  a swift  helper,  and  is, 
ere  long,  a stifling  encumbrance;  the  third,  the  spirit  of 
Coterie,  which  would  in  no  long  time,  shrink  their  rock 
of  ages  to  a platform,  diminish  their  brotherhood  to  a 
lique,  and  reduce  their  aims  to  experiences. 

Brook  Farm,  whereof  it  is  not  probable  that  a history 
will  ever  be  written,  for  the  reason  that  there  were  in  it 
slender  materials  for  history, — though  there  were 
abundant  materials  for  thought,— was  projected  on  the 
ui rest  transcendental  basis.  It  was  neither  European  nor 
English,  neither  French  nor  German  in  its  origin.  No 
doubt,  among  the  supporters  and  friends  of  it  were  some 
who  had  made  themselves  acquainted  with  the  writings 
of  St.  Simon  and  Chevalier,  of  Proudhon  and  Fourier  ; 
but  it  does  not  appear  that  any  of  these  authors  shaped 
or  prescribed  tbe  plan,  or  influenced  the  spirit  of  the 
enterprise.  The  Constitution  which  is  printed  herewith 
explains  sufficiently  the  project,  and  expresses  the  spirit 
in  which  it  was  undertaken.  The  jealous  regard  for 
the  rights  of  the  individual  is  not  the  least  characteristic 
feature  of  this  remarkable  document.  The  By-Laws, 
which  want  of  space  excludes  from  these  pages,  simply 
confirm  the  provisions  that  were  made  to  guard  the 
person  against  unnecessary  infringement  of  independ- 


ence. 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


159 


CONSTITUTION. 

In  order  more  effectually  to  promote  the  great  pur- 
poses of  human  culture  ; to  establish  the  external  relations 
of  life  on  a basis  of  wisdom  and  purity;  to  apply  the. 
principles  of  justice  and  love  to  our  social  orgnization  im 
accordance  with  the  laws  of  Divine  Providence  ; to  sub- 
stitute a system  of  brotherly  cooperation  for  one  of  selfish 
competition  ; to  secure  to  our  children  and  those  who  may 
be  entrusted  to  our  care,  the  benefits  of  the  highest  phys- 
ical, intellectual  and  moral  education,  which  in  the  pro- 
gress of  knowledge  the  resources  at  our  command  will 
permit;  to  institute  an  attractive,  efficient,  and  productive 
system  of  industry  ; to  prevent  the  exercise  of  worldly 
anxiety,  by  the  competent  supply  of  our  necessary  wants  ; 
to  diminish  the  desire  of  excessive  accumulation,  by 
making  the  acquisition  of  individual  property  subservient 
to  upright  and  disinterested  uses  ; to  guarantee  to  each 
other  forever  the  means  of  physical  support,  and  of  spiri- 
tual progress  ; and  thus  to  impart  a greater  freedom, 
simplicity,  truthfulness,  refinement,  and  moral  dignity, 
to  our  mode  of  life  ; — we  the  undersigned  do  unite  in 
a voluntary  Association,  and  adopt  and  ordain  the  fol- 
lowing articles  of  agreement,  to  wit  : 

ARTICLE  I. 

NAME  AND  MEMBERSHIP. 

SEC.  I.  The  name  of  this  Association  shall  be  “ The 
Brook-Farm  Association  for  Industry  and  Edu- 
cation. ” All  persons  who  shall  hold  one  or  more 
shares  in  its  stock,  or  whose  labor  and  skill  shall  be  con- 
sidered an  equivalent  for  capital,  may  be  admitted  by 
the  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  Association,  as  members 
thereof. 


i6o 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Sec.  2.  No  member  of  the  Association  shall  ever  be 
subjected  to  any  religious  test  ; nor  shall  any  authority 
be  assumed  over  individual  freedom  of  opinion  by  the  As- 
sociation, nor  by  one  member  over  another  ; nor  shall 
any  one  be  held  accountable  to  the  Association,  except 
for  such  overt  acts,  or  omissions  of  duty,  as  violate  the 
principles  of  justice,  purity,  and  love,  on  which  it  is  found- 
ed ; and  in  such  cases  the  relation  of  any  member  may  be 
suspended  or  discontinued,  at  the  pleasure  of  the  Asso- 
ciation. 


ARTICLE  II. 

CAPITAL  STOCK. 

SEC.  i.  The  members  of  this  Association  shall  own 
and  manage  such  real  and  personal  estate  in  joint  stock 
proprietorship,  divided  into  shares  of  one  hundred  dol- 
lars each,  as  may  from  time  to  time  be  agreed  on. 

SEC.  2.  No  shareholder  shall  be  liable  to  any  assess- 
ment whatever  on  the  shares  held  by  him  ; nor  shall  he 
be  held  responsible  individually  in  his  private  property 
on  account  of  the  Association  ; nor  shall  the  Trustees,  or 
any  officer  or  agent  of  the  Association,  have  any  authori- 
ty to  do  any  thing  which  shall  impose  personal  responsi- 
bility on  any  shareholder,  by  making  any  contracts  or 
incurring  any  debts  for  which  the  shareholders  shall  be 
individually  or  personally  responsible. 

SEC.  3.  The  Association  guarantees  to  each  share- 
holder the  interest  of  five  per  cent,  annually  on  the 
amount  of  stock  held  by  him  in  the  Association,  and  this 
interest  may  be  paid  in  certificates  of  stock  and  credited 
on  the  books  of  the  Association  ; provided  that  each 
shareholder  may  draw  on  the  funds  of  the  Association 
for  the  amount  of  interest  due  at  the  third  annual  settle- 
ment from  the  time  of  investment. 

SEC.  4.  The  shareholders  on  their  part,  for  them- 
selves, their  heirs  and  assigns,  do  renounce  all  claim  on 
any  profits  accruing  to  the  Association  for  the  use  of 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


161 


their  capital  invested  in  the  stock  of  the  Association, 
except  five  per  cent,  interest  on  the  amount  of  stock 
held  by  them,  payable  in  the  manner  described  in  the 
preceding  section. 


ARTICLE  III. 

GUARANTIES. 

SEC.  I.  The  Association  shall  provide  such  employ- 
ment for  all  its  members  as  shall  be  adapted  to  their 
capacities,  habits,  and  tastes  ; and  each  member  shall 
select  and  perform  such  operations  of  labor,  whether 
corporal  or  mental,  as  shall  be  deemed  best  suited  to 
his  own  endowments  and  the  benefit  of  the  Association. 

Sec.  2.  The  Association  guarantees  to  all  its  mem- 
bers, their  children  and  family  dependents,  house-rent, 
fuel,  food,  and  clothing,  and  the  other  necessaries  of  life, 
without  charge,  not  exceeding  a certain  fixed  amount  to 
be  decided  annually  by  the  Association  ; no  charge 
shall  ever  be  made  for  support  during  inability  to  labor 
from  sickness  or  old  age,  or  for  medical  or  nursing 
attendance,  except  in  case  of  shareholders,  who  shall 
be  charged  therefor,  and  also  for  the  food  and  clothing 
of  children,  to  an  amount  not  exceeding  the  interest 
due  to  them  on  settlement ; but  no  charge  shall  be  made 
to  any  members  for  education  or  the  use  of  library  and 
public  rooms. 

SEC.  3.  Members  may  withdraw  from  labor,  under  the 
direction  of  the  Association,  and  in  that  case,  they  shall 
not  be  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  the  above  guaranties. 

Sec.  4.  Children  over  ten  years  of  age  shall  be  pro- 
vided with  employment  in  suitable  branches  of  industry  ; 
they  shall  be  credited  for  such  portions  of  each  annual 
dividend,  as  shall  be  decided  by  the  Association,  and  on 
the  completion  of  their  education  in  the  Association  at 
the  age  of  twenty,  shall  be  entitled  to  a certificate  of 
stock  to  the  amount  of  credits  in  their  favor,  and  may 
be  admitted  as  members  of  the  Association. 


162 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


ARTICLE  IV. 

DISTRIBUTION  OF  PROFITS. 

SEC.  i The  net  profits  of  the  Association,  after  the 
payment  of  all  expenses,  shall  be  divided  into  a number 
of  shares  corresponding  to  the  number  of  days’  labor; 
and  every  member  shall  be  entitled  to  one  share  of 
every  day’s  labor  performed  by  him. 

SEC.  2.  A full  settlement  shall  be  made  with  every 
member  once  a year,  and  certificates  of  stock  given  for 
all  balances  due  ; but  in  case  of  need,  to  be  decided  by 
himself,  every  member  may  be  permitted  to  draw  on 
the  funds  in  the  Treasury  to  an  amount  not  exceeding 
the  credits  in  his  favor  for  labor  performed. 


ARTICLE  V. 

GOVERNMENT. 

SEC.  i.  The  government  of  the  Association  shall  be 
vested  in  a board  of  Directors,  divided  into  four  depart- 
ments, as  follows  ; ist,  General  Direction  ; 2d,  Direction 
of  Education  ; 3d,  Direction  of  Industry  ; 4th,  Direc- 
tion of  Finance;  consisting  of  three  persons  each, 
provided  that  the  same  person  may  be  elected  member 
of  each  Direction. 

SEC.  2.  The  General  Direction  and  Direction  of 
Education  shall  be  chosen  annually,  by  the  vote  of  a 
majority  of  the  members  of  the  Association.  The 
Direction  of  Finance  shall  be  chosen  annually,  by  the 
vote  of  a majority  of  the  share-holders  and  members  of 
the  Association.  The  direction  of  Industry  shall  consist 
of  the  chiefs  of  the  three  primary  series. 

SEC.  3.  The  chairman  of  the  General  Direction  shall 
be  the  President  of  the  Association,  and  together  with 


PR  A C TIC  A L TENDENCIES. 


163 

the  Direction  of  Finance,  shall  constitute  a board  of 
Trustees,  by  whom  the  property  of  the  Association  shall 
be  held  and  managed. 

Sec.  4 The  General  Direction  shall  oversee  and  man- 
age the  affairs  of  the  Association,  so  that  every  depart- 
ment shall  be  carried  on  in  an  orderly  and  efficient 
manner. 

Sec.  5-  The  departments  of  Education  and  Finance 
shall  be  under  the  control  each  of  its  own  Direction, 
which  shall  select,  and  in  concurrence  with  the  General 
Direction,  shall  appoint  such  teachers,  officers,  and  agents, 
as  shall  be  necessary  to  the  complete  and  systematic  or- 
ganization of  the  department.  No  Directors  or  other  of- 
ficers shall  be  deemed  to  possess  any  rank  superior  to 
the  other  members  of  the  Association,  nor  shall  they  re- 
ceive any  extra  remuneration  for  their  official  services. 

Sec.  6.  The  department  of  industry  shall  be  arranged 
in  groups  and  series,  as  far  as  practicable,  and  shall  con- 
sist of  three  primary  series  ; to  wit,  Agricultural,  Me- 
chanical, and  Domestic  Industry.  The  chief  of  each 
series  shall  be  elected  every  two  months  by  the  members 
thereof,  subject  to  the  approval  of  the  general  Direction. 
The  chief  of  each  group  shall  be  chosen  weekly  by  its 
members. 


ARTICLE  VI. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Sec.  i.  The  Association  may  from  time  to  time 
adopt  such  by-laws,  not  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  and 
purpose  of  these  articles,  as  shall  be  found  expedient  or 
necessary. 

Sec.  2.  In  order  to  secure  to  the  Association  the 
benefits  of  the  highest  discoveries  in  social  science,  and 
to  preserve  its  fidelity  to  the  principles  of  progress  and 
reform,  on  which  it  is  founded,  any  amendment  may  be 
proposed  to  this  Constitution  at  a meeting  called  lor 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


164 

the  purpose  ; and  if  approved  by  two-thirds  of  the  mem- 
bers at  a subsequent  meeting,  at  least  one  month  after 
the  date  of  the  first,  shall  be  adopted. 


From  this  it  appears  that  the  association  was  simply  an 
attempt  to  return  to  first  principles,  to  plant  the  seeds  of  a 
new  social  order,  founded  on  respect  for  the  dignity,  and 
sympathy  with  the  aspirations  of  man.  It  was  open  to  all 
sects;  it  admitted,  welcomed,  nay,  demanded  all  kinds 
and  degrees  of  intellectual  culture.  The  most  profound 
regard  for  individual  opinion,  feeling  and  inclination,  was 
professed  and  exhibited.  Confidence  that  surrender  to 
the  spontaneous  principle,  with  no  more  restriction  than 
might  be  necessary  to  secure  its  development,  was 
wisest,  lay  at  the  bottom  of  the  scheme. 

It  was  felt  at  this  time,  1842,  that,  in  order  to  live  a 
religious  and  moral  life  in  sincerity,  it  was  necessary  to 
' „ve  the  world  of  institutions,  and  to  reconstruct  the  social 
rder  from  new  beginnings.  A farm  was  bought  in  close 
vicinity  to  Boston  ; agriculture  was  made  the  basis  of  the 
life,  as  bringing  man  into  direct  and  simple  relations  with 
nature,  and  restoring  labor  to  honest  conditions.  To  a 
certain  extent,  it  will  be  seen,  the  principle  of  community 
in  property  was  recognized,  community  of  interest  and 
cooperation  requiring  it ; but  to  satisfy  the  claims  and 
insure  the  rights  of  the  individual,  members  were  not 
required  to  impoverish  themselves,  or  to  resign  the  fruit 
of  their  earnings. 

Provisions  were  either  raised  on  the  farm  or  purchased 
at  wholesale.  Meals  were  eaten  in  “commons.”  It 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES.  165 

was  the  rule  that  all  should  labor — -choosing  their  occu- 
pations, and  the  number  of  hours,  and  receiving  wages 
according  to  the  hours.  No  labor  was  hired  that  could 
be  supplied  within  the  community  ; and  all  labor  was 
rewarded  alike,  on  the  principle  that  physical  labor  is 
more  irksome  than  mental,  more  absorbing  and  exacting, 
i less  improving  and  delightful.  Moreover,  to  recognize 
practically  the  nobility  of  labor  in  and  of  itself,  none 
were  appointed  to  special  kinds  of  work.  All  took  their 
turn  at  the  several  branches  of  employment.  None  were 
drudges  or  menials.  The  intellectual  gave  a portion  of 
their  time  to  tasks  such  as  servants  and  handmaidens 
usually  discharge.  The  unintellectual  were  allowed  a 
portion  of  their  time  for  mental  cultivation.  The  benefits 
/|  of  social  intercourse  were  thrown  open  to  all.  The  aim 
was  to  secure  as  many  hours  as  practicable  from  the 
necessary  toil  of  providing  for  the  wants  of  the  body, 
that  there  might  be  more  leisure  to  provide  for  the  deeper 
wants  of  the  soul.  The  acquisition  of  wealth  was  no 
object.  No  more  thought  wras  given  to  this  than  the 
exigencies  of  existence  demanded.  To  live,  expand, 
enjoy  as  rational  beings,  was  the  never-forgotten  aim. 

The  community  trafficked  by  way  of  exchange  and 
barter  with  the  outside  world  ; sold  its  surplus  produce  ; 
sold  its  culture  to  as  many  as  came  or  sent  'children  to 
be  taught.  It  was  hoped  that  from  the  accumulated 
results  of  ail  this  labor,  the  appliances  for  intellectual  and 
spiritual  health  might  be  obtained  ; that  books  might  be 
bought,  works  of  art,  scientific  collections  and  apparatus, 
means  of  decoration  and  refinement,  all  of  which  should 


1 66 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


be  open  on  the  same  terms  to  every  member  of  the  asso- 
ciation. The  principle  of  cooperation  was  substituted 
for  the  principle  of  competition  ; self  development  for 
selfishness.  The  faith  was  avowed  in  every  arrangement 
that  the  soul  of  humanity  was  in  each  man  and  woman. 

The  reputation  for  genius,  accomplishment  and  wit, 
which  the  founders  of  the  Brook  Farm  enterprise  enjoyed 
in  society,  attracted  towards  it  the  attention  of  the  public, 
and  awakened  expectation  of  something  much  more  than 
ordinary  in  the  way  of  literary  advantages.  The  settle- 
ment became  a resort  for  cultivated  men  and  women  who 
had  experience  as  teachers  and  wished  to  employ  their 
talent  to  the  best  effect ; and  for  others  who  were  tired  of 
the  conventionalities,  and  sighed  for  honest  relations  with 
their  fellow-beings.  Some  took  advantage  of  the  easy 
hospitality  of  the  association,  and  came  there  to  live 
mainly  at  its  expense — their  unskilled  and  incidental 
iabor  being  no  compensation  for  their  entertainment. 
The  most  successful  department  was  the  school.  Pupils 
came  thither  in  considerable  numbers  and  from  consider- 
able distances.  Distinguished  visitors  gave  charm  and 
reputation  to  the  place. 

The  members  were  never  numerous ; the  number 
varied  considerably  from  year  to  year.  Seventy  was  a 
fair  average  ; of  these,  fewer  than  half  were  young  persons 
sent  thither  to  be  educated.  Several  adults  came  for 
intellectual  assistance.  Of  married  people  there  were,  in 
1844,  but  four  pairs.  A great  deal  was  taught  and 
learned  at  Brook  Farm.  Classics,  mathematics,  general 
literature,  aesthetics,  occupied  the  busy  hours.  The  most 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


167 


productive  work  was  done  in  these  ideal  fields,  and  the 
best  result  of  it  was  a harvest  in  the  ideal  world,  a new- 
sense  of  life’s  elasticity  and  joy,  the  delight  of  freedom, 
the  innocent  satisfaction  of  spontaneous  relations. 

The  details  above  given  convey  no  adequate  idea  of 
the  Brook  Farm  fraternity.  In  one  sense  it  was  much 
less  than  they  imply;  in  another  sense  it  was  much  more. 
It  was  less,  because  its  plan  was  not  materially  successful ; 
the  intention  was  defeated  by  circumstances  ; the  hope 
turned  out  to  be  a dream.  Yet,  from  another  aspect,  the 
experiment  fully  justified  itself.  Its  moral  tone  was 
high ; its  moral  influence  sweet  and  sunny.  Had 
Brook  Farm  been  a community  in  the  accepted  sense, 
had  it  insisted  on  absolute  community  of  goods,  the 
resignation  of  opinions,  of  personal  aims  interests  or 
sympathies;  had  the  principle  of  renunciation,  sacrifice 
of  the  individual  to  the  common  weal,  been  accepted 
and  maintained,  its  existence  might  have  been  continued 
and  its  pecuniary  basis  made  sure.  But  asceticism  was 
no  feature  of  the  original  scheme.  On  the  contrary,  the 
projectors  of  it  were  believers  in  the  capacities  of  the 
soul,  in  the  safety,  wisdom  and  imperative  necessity  of 
developing  those  capacities,  and  in  the  benign  effect  of 
liberty.  Had  the  spirit  of  rivalry  and  antagonism  been 
called  in,  the  sectarian  or  party  spirit,  however  generously 
interpreted,  the  result  would  probably  have  been  differ- 
ent. But  the  law  of  sympathy  being  accepted  as  the 
law  of  life,  exclusion  was  out  of  the  question  ; inquisition 
into  beliefs  was  inadmissible ; motives  even  could  not  be 
closely  scanned ; so  while  some  were  enthusiastic  friends 


i68 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


of  the  principle  of  association,  and  some  were  ardent 
devotees  to  liberty,  others  thought  chiefly  of  ‘their 
private  education  and  development ; and  others  still 
were  attracted  by  a desire  of  improving  their  social  con- 
dition, or  attaining  comfort  on  easy  terms.  The  idea, 
however  noble,  true,  and  lovely,  was  unable  to  grapple 
with  elements  so  discordant.  Yet  the  fact  that  these 
discordant  elements  did  not,  even  in  the  brief  period 
of  the  fraternity’s  existence,  utterly  rend  and  abolish 
the  idea;  that  to  the  last,  no  principle  was  compromised, 
no  rule  broken,  no  aspiration  bedraggled,  is  a confession 
of  the  purity  and  vitality  of  the  creative  thought.  That 
a mere  aggregation  of  persons,  without  written  compact, 
formal  understanding,  or  unity  of  purpose,  men,  women 
and  children,  should  have  lived  together,  four  or  five 
years,  without  scandal  or  reproach  from  dissension  or 
evil  whisper,  should  have  separated  without  rancor  or 
bitterness,  and  should  have  left  none  but  the  pleasantest 
savor  behind  them — is  a tribute  to  the  Transcendental 
Faith. 

In  1844,  the  Directors  of  the  Association,  George  Rip- 
ley, Minot  Pratt,  and  Charles  Anderson  Dana,  publish- 
ed a statement,  declaring:  that  every  step  had  strength- 
ened the  faith  with  which  they  set  out ; that  their 
belief  in  a divine  order  of  human  society  had  in  their 
minds  become  an  absolute  certainty  ; that,  in  their  judg- 
ment, considering  the  state  of  humanity  and  of  social 
science,  the  world  was  much  nearer  the  attainment  of 
such  a condition  than  was  generally  supposed.  They  here 
said  emphatically  that  Fourier’s  doctrine  of  universal 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES.  169 

unity  commanded  their  unqualified  assent,  and  that  their 
whole  observation  had  satisfied  them  of  the  practical  ar- 
rangements which  he  deduced  therefrom,  of  the  corres- 
pondence of  the  law  of  groups  and  series  with  the  law  of 
human  nature.  At  this  time  the  farm  contained  two  hun- 
dred and  eight  acres,  and  could  be  enlarged  to  any  extent 
necessary.  The  Association  held  property  worth  nearly 
or  quite  thirty  thousand  dollars,  of  which  about  twenty- 
two  thousand  was  invested,  either  in  the  stock  of  the 
company  or  in  permanent  loans  to  it  at  six  per  cent, 
which  could  remain  as  long  as  the  Association  might 
wish.  The  organization  was  pronounced  to  be  in  a satis- 
factory working  condition  ; the  Department  of  Education, 
on  which  much  thought  had  been  bestowed,  was  flourish- 
ing. With  a view  to  an  ultimate  expansion  into  a perfect 
Phalanx,  it  was  proposed  to  organize  the  three  primary 
departments  of  labor,  namely,  Agriculture,  Domestic  In- 
dustry, and  the  Mechanical  Arts.  Public  meetings  had 
awakened  an  interest  in  the  community.  Appeals  for 
money  had  been  generously  answered.  The  numbers 
had  been  increased  by  the  accession  of  many  skilful 
and  enthusiastic  laborers  in  various  departments.  About 
ten  thousand  dollars  had  been  added  by  subscription 
to  the  capital.  A work-shop  sixty  feet  by  twenty-eight 
had  been  erected  ; a Phalanstery,  or  unitary  dwelling  on 
a large  scale,  was  in  process  of  erection,  to  meet  the 
early  needs  of  the  preparatory  period,  until  success 
should  authorize  the  building  of  a Phalanstery  “with 
the  magnificence  and  permanence  proper  to  such  a 
structure.”  The  prospect  was,  or  looked,  encouraging. 

8 


1 7° 


TRANSCENDEMTALISM. 


The  experiment  had  been  tested  by  the  hard  discipline 
of  more  than  two  years  ; the  severest  difficulties  had  ap- 
parently been  conquered  ; the  arrangements  had  attained 
systematic  form,  as  far  as  the  limited  numbers  permitted  ; 
the  idea  was  respectfully  entertained  ; socialism  was 
spreading  ; it  embraced  persons  of  every  station  in  life  ; 
and  in  its  extent,  and  influence  on  questions  of  importance, 
it  seemed,  to  enthusiastic  believers,  to  be  fast  assuming 
in  the  United  States  a national  character.  This  was  in 
October  1844.  At  this  time  the  Brook  Farm  Association- 
ists  connected  themselves  with  the  New  York  Socialists 
who  accepted  the  teachings  of  Fourier  ; and  the  efforts 
described  were  put  forth  in  aid  of  the  new  and  more 
systematic  plans  that  had  been  adopted.  But  this  coal- 
ition, which  promised  so  much,  proved  disastrous  in  its 
result.  The  Association  was  unable  to  sustain  industrial 
competition  with  established  trades.  The  expenses  were 
more  than  the  receipts.  In  the  spring  of  1847  the  Phalan- 
stery was  burned  down  ; the  summer  was  occupied  in 
closing  up  the  affairs;  and  in  the  autumn  the  Association 
was  broken  up.  The  members  betook  themselves  to  the 
world  again,  and  engaged  in  the  ordinary  pursuits  of 
life.  The  farm  was  bought  by  the  town  of  West  Rox- 
bury,  and  afterwards  passed  into  private  hands.  During 
the  civil  war  the  government  used  it  for  military  pur- 
poses. The  main  building  has  since  been  occupied  as  a 
hospital.  The  leaders  of  the  Association  removed  to  New 
York,  and  for  about  a year,  till  February  1849,  contin- 
ued their  labors  of  propagandism  by  means  of  the  “ Har- 
binger,” till  that  expired  : then  their  dream  faded,  away. 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES.  I 71 

The  full  history  of  that  movement  can  be  written  only 
by  one  who  belonged  to  it,  and  shared  its  secret  : and  it 
would  doubtless  have  been  written  before  this,  had  the 
materials  for  a history  been  more  solid.  Aspirations  have 
no  history.  It  is  pleasant  to  hear  the  survivors  of  the 
pastoral  experiment  talk  over  their  experiences,  merrily 
recall  the  passages  in  work  or  play,  revive  the  im- 
pressions of  country  rambles,  conversations,  discussions, 
social  festivities,  recount  the  comical  mishaps,  summon 
the  shadows  of  friends  dead,  but  unforgotten,  and  de- 
scribe the  hours  spent  in  study  or  recreation,  unspoiled 
by  carefulness.  But  it  is  in  private  alone  that  these  confi- 
dences are  imparted.  To  the  public  very  little  has  been, 
or  will  be,  or  can  be  told. 

Mr.  Hawthorne  was  one  of  the  first  to  take  up  the 
scheme.  He  was  there  a little  while  at  the  beginning  in 
1841,  and  his  note-books  contain  passages  that  are  of 
interest.  But  Hawthorne’s  temperament  was  not  con- 
genial with  such  an  atmosphere,  nor  was  his  faith  clear  or 
steadfast  enough  to  rest  contented  on  its  idea.  His, 
however,  were  observing  eyes  ; and  his  notes,  being  so- 
liloquies, confessions  made  to  himself,  convey  his  honest 
impressions  : 

Brook  Farm,  April  13th,  1841.  “I  have  not  taken 
yet  my  first  lesson  in  agriculture,  except  that  I went 
to  see  our  cows  foddered,  yesterday  afternoon.  We 
have  eight  of  our  own  ; and  the  number  is  now  increased 
by  a Transcendental  heifer  belonging  to  Miss  Margaret 
Fuller.  She  is  very  fractious,  I believe,  and  apt  to  kick 
over  the  milk  pail  ...  I intend  to  convert  myself 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


172 

into  a milk-maid  this  evening,  but  I pray  Heaven  that 
Mr.  Ripley  may  be  moved  to  assign  me  the  kindliest 
cow  in  the  herd,  otherwise  I shall  perform  my  duties 
with  fear  and  trembling.  I like  my  brethren  in  affliction 
very  well,  and  could  you  see  us  sitting  round  our  table 
at  meal  times,  before  the  great  kitchen  fire,  you  would 
call  it  a cheerful  sight.” 

“ April  14.  I did  not  milk  the  cows  last  night,  because 
Mr.  R.  was  afraid  to  trust  them  to  my  hands,  or  me  to 
their  horns,  I know  not  which.  But  this  morning  I have 
done  wonders.  Before  breakfast  I went  out  to  the  barn 
and  began  to  chop  hay  for  the  cattle,  and  with  such 
“ righteous  vehemence,”  as  Mr.  R.  says,  did  I labor, 
that  in  the  space  of  ten  minutes  I broke  the  machine. 
Then  I brought  wood  and  replenished  the  fires  ; and 
finally^'ent  down  to  breakfast,  and  ate  up  a huge  mound 
of  buckwheat  cakes.  After  breakfast  Mr.  R.  put  a four- 
pronged instrument  into  my  hands,, which  he  gave  me  to 
understand  was  called  a pitchfork  ; and  he  and  Mr. 
Farley  being  armed  with  similar  weapons,  we  all  three 
commenced  a gallant  attack  on  a heap  of  manure.  This 
office  being  concluded,  and  I having  purified  myself,  I 
sit  down  to  finish  this  letter.  Miss  Fuller’s  cow  hooks 
other  cows,  and  has  made  herself  ruler  of  the  herd,  and 
behaves  in  a very  tyrannical  manner.” 

“ April  1 6th.  I have  milked  a cow  ! ! ! The  herd  has 
rebelled  against  the  usurpation  of  Miss  Fuller’s  heifer; 
and  whenever  they  are  turned  out  of  the  barn,  she  is 
compelled  to  take  refuge  under  our  protection.  So 
much  did  she  impede  my  labors  by  keeping  close  to  me, 
that  I found  it  necessary  to  give  her  two  or  three  gentle 
pats  with  a shovel.  She  is  not  an  amiable  cow  ; but  she 
has  a very  intelligent  face,  and  seems  to  be  of  a reflect- 
ive cast  of  character. 

I have  not  yet  been  twenty  yards  from  our  house  and 
barn  ; but  I begin  to  perceive  that  this  is  a beautiful 
place.  The  scenery  is  of  a mild  and  placid  character, 
with  nothing  bold  in  its  aspect ; but  I think  its  beauties 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


173 


will  grow  upon  us,  and  make  us  love  it  the  more  the 
longer  we  live  here.  There  is  a brook  so  near  the  house 
that  we  shall  be  able  to  hear  its  ripple  in  the  summer 
evenings, — but  for  agricultural  purposes  it  has  been 
made  to  flow  in  a straight  and  rectangular  fashion  which 
does  it  infinite  damage  as  a picturesque  object.  Mr.  R. 
has  bought  four  black  pigs.” 

“ April  22nd.  What  an  abominable  hand  do  I scribble  ; 
but  I have  been  chopping  wood  and  turning  a grind- 
stone all  the  forenoon  ; and  such  occupations  are  apt  to 
disturb  the  equilibrium  of  the  muscles  and  sinews.  It 
is  an  endless  surprise  to  me  how  much  work  there  is  to 
be  done  in  the  world ; but  thank  God  I am  able  to  do 
my  share  of  it,  and  my  ability  increases  daily.  What  a 
great,  broad-shouldered,  elephantine  personage  I shall 
become  by  and  by  ! 

I read  no  newspapers,  and  hardly  remember  who  is 
President,  and  feel  as  if  I had  no  more  concern  with  what 
other  people  trouble  themselves  about,  than  if  I dwelt  in 
another  planet.” 

“ May  1st.  All  the  morning  I have  been  at  work, 
under  the  clear  blue  sky,  on  a hill  side.  Sometimes  it 
almost  seemed  as  if  I were  at  work  in  the  sky  itself,  though 
the  material  in  which  I wrought  was  the  ore  from  our 
gold-mine.  There  is  nothing  so  disagreeable  or  unseemly 
in  this  sort  of  toil  as  you  could  think.  It  defiles  the 
hands  indeed,  but  not  the  soul. 

The  farm  is  growing  very  beautiful  now, — not  that  we 
yet  see  anything  of  the  peas  and  potatoes  which  we  have 
planted,  but  the  grass  blushes  green  on  the  slopes  and 
hollows. 

I do  not  believe  that  I should  be  so  patient  here  if  I 
were  not  engaged  in  a righteous  and  heaven-blessed  way 
of  life.  We  had  some  tableaux  last  evening.  They  went 
off  very  well.” 

“ May  nth.  This  morning  I arose  at  milking  time, 
in  good  trim  for  work  ; and  we  have  been  employed 
partly  in  an  Augean  labor  of  clearing  out  a wood-shed, 


i74 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


and  partly  in  carting  loads  of  oak.  This  afternoon  I hope 
to  have  something  to  do  in  the  field,  for  these  jobs  about 
the  house  are  not  at  all  suited  to  my  taste.” 

“June  ist.  I think  this  present  life  of  mine  gives 
me  an  antipathy  to  pen  and  ink,  even  more  than  my 
Custom-house  experience  did.  In  the  midst  of  toil,  or 
after  a hard  day’s  work,  my  soul  obstinately  refuses  to 
be  poured  out  on  paper.  It  is  my  opinion  that  a man’s 
soul  may  be  buried  and  perish  under  a dung  heap,  just 
as  well  as  under  a pile  of  money.” 

“August  15th.  Even  my  Custom-house  experience 
was  not  such  a thraldom  and  weariness  as  this.  O,  labor 
is  the  curse  of  the  world,  and  nobody  can  meddle  with 
it,  without  becoming  proportionably  brutified  ! Is  it  a 
praiseworthy  matter  that  I have  spent  five  golden  months 
in  providing  food  for  cows  and  horses  ? It  is  not  so.” 

“ Salem,  Sept.  3d.  Really  I should  judge  it  to  be 
twenty  years  since  I left  Brook  Farm  ; and  I take  this  to 
be  one  proof  that  my  life  there  was  an  unnatural  and  un- 
suitable, and  therefore  an  unreal  one.  It  already  looks 
like  a dream  behind  me.  The  real  Me  was  never  an  as- 
sociate of  the  community  ; there  had  been  a spectral  Ap- 
pearance there,  sounding  the  horn  at  daybreak,  and 
milking  the  cows,  and  hoeing  the  potatoes,  and  raking 
hay,  toiling  in  the  sun,  and  doing  me  the  honor  to  assume 
my  name.  But  this  spectre  was  not  myself.” 

Mr.  Hawthorne  was  elected  to  high  offices,  to  those  of 
Trustee  of  the  Brook  Farm  estate,  and  Chairman  of  the 
Committee  of  Finance  ; but  he  told  Mr.  Ripley  that  he 
could  not  spend  another  winter  there.  If  we  could  inspect 
all  the  note-books  of  the  community,  supposing  all  to  be  as 
frank  as  Hawthorne,  our  picture  of  Brook  Farm  life  would 
be  fascinating.  But  his  was,  perhaps,  the  only  note-book 
kept  in  the  busy  brotherhood,  and  his  rather  sombre 
view  must  be  accepted  as  the  impression  of  one  peculiar 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


175 


mind.  In  the  “ Blithedale  Romance,”  Hawthorne  dis- 
claimed any  purpose  to  describe  persons  or  events  at 
Brook  Farm,  and  expressed  a hope  that  some  one  might 
yet  do  justice  to  a movement  so  full  of  earnest  aspiration. 
But  he,  himself,  declined  the  task.  “The  old  and 
affectionately  remembered  home  at  Brook  Farm — cer- 
tainly the  most  romantic  episode  of  his  own  life — essen- 
tially a day  dream,  and  yet  a fact — thus  offering  an  avail- 
able foothold  between  fiction  and  reality,”  merely  sup- 
plied the  scenery  for  the  romance.  More  than  twenty 
years  have  passed  since  Hawthorne’s  appeal  to  his  asso- 
ciates, but  it  has  not  been  answered. 

The  characteristic  nature  of  transcendental  reform  wall 
exhibited  in  the  temper  of  its  agitation  for  the  enfran- 
chisement of  women,  and  the  enlargement  of  her  sphere 
of  duty  and  privilege.  More  definitely  than  any  other]? 
this  reform  can  trace  its  beginnings  and  the  source  of  its 
inspiration  to  the  disciples  of  the  transcendental  philoso- 
phy. The  transcendentalists  gave  it  their  countenance 
to  some  extent,  to  a man  and  a woman,  conceding  the 
truth  of  its  idea  even  when  criticising  the  details  of  its 
application.  With  almost  if  not  quite  equal  unanimity, 
the  other  school  regarded  it  with  disfavor.  The  cause  of 
woman,  as  entertained  by  the  reformers,  was  not  likely 
to  commend  itself  to  people  who  consulted  custom,  law, 
or  institution  ; who  accepted  the  authority  of  tradition, 
took  history  to  be  revelation,  deferred  to  the  decree  of 
circumstance,  or,  under  any  other  open  or  disguised  form, 
bowed  to  the  doctrine  that  might  makes  right.  The 
philosophical  conservatives  and  the  social  conservatives 


176 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


struck  hands  on  this  ; for  both,  the  one  party  in  deference 
to  established  usage,  the  other  party  in  deference  to  the 
opinion  that  mind  followed  organization,  defended  things 
as  they  were,  and  hoped  for  a better  state  of  things,  if 
they  hoped  for  it  at  all,  as  a result  of  changes  in  the 
social  environment.  The  disciples  of  the  same  philosophy 
now  hold  the  same  view  of  this  particular  reform.  From 
them  comes  the  charge  of  unsexing  women  and  demoral- 
izing the  sex.  In  the  belief  of  the  transcendentalism,  souls 
were  of  no  sex.  Men  and  women  were  alike  human 
beings,  with  human  capacities,  longings,  and  destinies  ; 
and  the  condition  of  society  that  doomed  them  to  hope- 
lessness in  regard  to  the  complete  and  perfect  justifica- 
tion of  their  being,  was,  in  his  judgment — not  in  his  feeling, 
.or  sentiment,  but  in  his  judgment — unsound. 

The  ablest  and  most  judicial  statement  on  the  question 
was  made  by  Margaret  Fuller  in  the  “ Dial  ” of  July  1843. 
The  paper  entitled  the  “ Great  Law  Suit  " was  afterwards 
expanded  into  the  little  volume  called  “ Woman  in  the 
XIXth  Century,”  which  contains  all  that  is  best  worth 
saying  on  the  subject,  has  been  the  storehouse  of  argu- 
ment and  illustration  from  that  time  to  this,  and  should 
be  read  by  all  who  would  understand  the  cardinal 
points  in  the  case.  The  careful  student  of  that  book 
will  be  amazed  at  the  misapprehensions  in  respect  to  its 
doctrine  that  are  current  even  in  intelligent  circles. 
Certainly  Miss  Fuller  does  claim  everything  that  may 
fairly  be  comprehended  under  woman’s  education  ; every- 
thing that  follows,  or  may  be  honestly  and  rationally 
held  as  following  in  the  course  of  her  intellectual  develop- 


ERA  C TICAL  TENDENCIES. 


*77 


ment.  But  she  claims  it  by  rigorous  fidelity  to  a philos- 
ophical idea;  not  passionately  or  hastily.  Not  as  a 
demand  of  sentiment,  not  as  a right  under  liberty,  not 
as  a conclusion  from  American  institutions,  but  as  the 
spiritual  prerogative  of  the  spiritual  being.  Her  argu- 
ment moves  on  this  high  table-land  of  thought ; and 
moves  with  a steadiness,  a serenity,  an  ease  that  little 
resemble  the  heated  debates  on  later  platforms.  Miss 
Fuller  was  thoroughly  feminine  in  her  intuitions.  It 
was  impossible  for  her  to  treat  any  subject,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  a subject  so  complex  and  delicate  as  this,  with 
any  but  the  finest  tempered  tools.  Her  sympathies 
were  with  women  ; she  attracted  women  by  the  power 
of  her  intelligence  and  fellow  feeling.  Women  of 
feeling  and  aspiration — pure  feeling  and  beautiful  aspir- 
ation,— came  to  her.  The  secrets  of  the  best  hearts 
were  revealed  to  her,  as  they  could  not  have  been,  had 
she  failed  to  reach  or  attract  them  on  their  own  level. 
Her  idea  of  womanly  character  as  displayed  in  sentiment 
and  action  was  as  gracious-  as  it  was  lofty. 

“ We  would  have  every  arbitrary  barrier  thrown  down. 
We  would  have  every  path  laid  open  to  women  as  freely 
as  to  man.  Were  this  done,  and  a slight  temporary 
fermentation  allowed  to  subside,  we  believe,  that  the 
Divine  would  ascend  into  nature  to  a height  unknown 
in  the  history  of  past  ages  ; and  nature,  thus  instructed, 
would  regulate  the  spheres,  not  only  so  as  to  avoid  col- 
lision, but  to  bring  forth  ravishing  harmony.” 

Yet  then,  and  only  then,  will  human  beings,  in  her 

judgment,  be  ripe  for  this,  when  inward  and  outward 
8* 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


178 

freedom  for  woman  as  much  as  for  man,  shall  be  ac- 
knowledged as  a right,  not  yielded  as  a concession. 

“ What  woman  needs  is  not  as  a woman  to  act  or  rule, 
but  as  a nature  to  grow,  as  an  intellect  to  discern,  as  a 
soul  to  live  freely,  and  unimpeded  to  unfold  such  powers 
as  were  given  her  when  we  left  our  common  home.  If 
fewer  talents  were  given  her,  yet,  if  allowed  the  full  and 
free  employment  of  these,  so  that  she  may  render  back 
to  the  giver  his  own  with  usury,  she  will  not  complain, 
nay,  I dare  to  say,  she  will  bless  and  rejoice  in  her 
earthly  birth-place  her  earthly  lot.” 

“ Man  is  not  willingly  ungenerous.  He  wants  faith 
and  love  because  he  is  not  yet  himself  an  elevated  being. 
He  cries  with  sneering  skepticism  : Give  us  a sign  ! 
But  if  the  sign  appears,  his  eyes  glisten,  and  he  offers 
not  merely  approval  but  homage.” 


The  Transcendental  idea  makes  her  just  to  all,  to  the 
Hebrew's  who  “ greeted  with  solemn  rapture  all  great 
and  holy  women  as  heroines,  prophetesses,  nay  judges 
in  Istael,  and  if  they  made  Eve  listen  to  the  serpent, 
gave  Mary  to  the  Holy  Ghost ; ” to  the  Greeks  whose 
feminine  deities  were  types  of  dignity  and  loveliness  ; 
to  the  Romans,  whose  glorious  women  are  “of  thread- 
bare celebrity  ; ” to  Asiatics,  Russians,  English.  It 
gave  her  generous  interpretations  for  law’s,  institutions, 
customs,  bidding  her  look  on  the  bright  side  of  history. 

“Whatever  may  have  been  the  domestic  manners  of 
the  ancient  nations,  the  idea  of  woman  w'as  nobly  mani- 
fested in  their  mythologies  and  poems,  where  she  ap- 
peared as  Sita  in  the  Ramayana,  a form  of  tender  puri- 
ty ; in  the  Egyptian  Isis,  of  divine  wisdom  never  yet  sur- 


PR  A C TICAL  TENDENCIES. 


179 


passed.  In  Egypt  too,  the  sphinx,  walking  the  earth 
with  lion  tread,  looked  out  upon  its  marvels  in  the  calm, 
inscrutable  beauty  of  a virgin  face,  and  the  Greek  could 
only  add  wings  to  the  great  emblem.”  “ In  Sparta  the 
women  were  as  much  Spartans  as  the  men.  Was  not 
the  calm  equality  they  enjoyed  well  worth  the  honors  of 
chivalry?  They  intelligently  shared  the  ideal  life  of 
their  nation.”  “ Is  it  in  vain  that  the  truth  has  been 
recognized  that  woman  is  not  only  a part  of  man,  bone 
of  his  bone,  and  flesh  of  his  flesh,  born  that  man  might 
not  be  lonely,  but  in  themselves  possessors  of  and  pos- 
sessed by  immortal  souls  ? This  truth  undoubtedly  re- 
ceived a greater  outward  stability  from  the  belief  of  the 
church  that  the  earthly  parent  of  the  Saviour  of  souls 
was  a woman.” 

“ Woman  cannot  complain  that  she  has  not  had  her 
share  of  power.  This  in  all  ranks  of  society,  except  the 
lowest,  has  been  hers  to  the  extent  that  vanity  could 
crave,  far  beyond  what  wisdom  would  accept.  It  is  not 
the  transient  breath  of  poetic  incense  that  women  want ; 
each  can  receive  that  from  a lover.  It  is  not  life-long 
sway  ; it  needs  to  become  a coquette,  a shrew,  or  a good 
cook,  to  be  sure  of  that.  It  is  not  money,  nor  notoriety, 
nor  the  badges  of  authority  that  men  have  appropriated  to 
themselves.  It  is  for  that  which  includes  all  these  and 
precludes  them  ; which  would  not  be  forbidden  power, 
lest  there  be  temptation  to  steal  and  misuse  it  ; which 
would  not  have  the  mind  perverted  by  flattery  from  a 
worthiness  of  esteem.  It  is  for  that  which  is  the  birthright 
of  every  being  capable  to  receive  it, — the  freedom,  the 
religious,  the  intelligent  freedom  of  the  universe,  to  use  its 
means,  to  learn  its  secret  as  far  as  nature  has  enabled 
them,  with  God  alone  for  their  guide  and  their  judge.” 

“ The  only  reason  why  women  ever  assume  what  is 
more  appropriate  to  men,  is  because  men  prevent  them 
from  finding  out  what  is  fit  for  themselves.  Were  they 
free,  were  they  wise  fully  to  develop  the  strength  and 
beauty  of  woman,  they  would  never  wish  to  be  men  or 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


180 

manlike.  The  well  instructed  moon  flies  not  from  her 
orbit  to  seize  on  the  glories  of  her  partner.” 

“ Give  the  soul  free  course,  let  the  organization  be 
freely  developed,  and  the  being  will  be  fit  for  any  and 
every  relation  to  which  it  may  be  called.” 

“■Civilized  Europe  is  still  in  a transition  state  about 
marriage,  not  only  in  practice  but  in  thought.  A great 
majority  of  societies  and  individuals  are  still  doubtful 
whether  earthly  marriage  is  to  be  a union  of  souls,  or 
merely  a contract  of  convenience  and  utility.  Were 
woman  established  in  the  rights  of  an  immortal  being, 
this  could  not  be.”  But  “ those  who  would  reform  the 
world,  must  show  that  they  do  not  speak  in  the  heat  of 
wild  impulse  ; their  lives  must  be  unstained  by  passion- 
ate error  ; they  must  be  severe  lawgivers  to  themselves. 
As  to  their  transgressions  of  opinions,  it  may  be  observed, 
that  the  resolve  of  Eloise  to  be  only  the  mistress  of 
Abelard,  was  that  of  one  who  saw  the  contract  of  mar- 
riage a seal  of  degradation.  Wherever  abuses  of  this 
sort  are  seen,  the  timid  will  suffer,  the  bold  will  protest ; 
but  society  has  the  right  to  outlaw  them,  till  she  has 
revised  her  law,  and  she  must  be  taught  to  do  so,  by  one 
who  speaks  with  authority,  not  in  anger  or  haste.” 
“Whether  much  or  little  has  been  or  will  be  done  ; 
whether  women  will  add  to  the  talent  of  narration,  the 
power  of  systematizing  ; whether  they  will  carve  marble 
as  well  as  iron,  is  not  important.  But  that  it  should  be 
acknowledged  that  they  have  intellect  which  needs 
developing,  that  they  should  not  be  considered  complete, 
if  beings  of  affection  and  habit  alone,  is  important.  Earth 
knows  no  fairer,  holier  relation  than  that  of  mother.  But 
a being  of  infinite  scope  must  not  be  treated  with  an 
exclusive  view  to  any  one  relation.” 

“ In  America  women  ar’e  much  better  situated  than 
men.  Good  books  are  allowed,  with  more  time  to  read 
them.  They  have  time  to  think,  and  no  traditions  chain 
them.  Their  employments  are  more  favorable  to  the 
inward  life  than  those  of  men.  Men  are  courteous  to 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES. 


181 


them  ; praise  them  often  ; check  them  seldom.  In  this 
country,  is  venerated,  wherever  seen,  the  character  which 
Goethe  spoke  of  as  an  Ideal : ‘ The  excellent  woman  is 
she,  who,  if  her  husband  dies,  can  be  a father  to  the 
children.’  ” 

Nothing  can  be  more  reasonable  than  this  ; and  this  is 
the  tone  of  transcendental  feeling  and  thought  on  tlu 
subject.  The  only  criticism  that  can  fairly  be  made  on 
the  Transcendentalist’s  idea  of  woman,  is  that  it  has  more 
regard  for  essential  capacities  and  possibilities,  than  for 
incidental  circumstances,  more  respect  for  the  ideal  than 
for  the  actual  woman.  However  grave  a sin  this  may  be 
against  common  sense,  it  is  none  against  purity,  noble- 
ness, or  the  laws  of  private  or  public  virtue.  The  dream, 
if  it  be  no  more  than  a dream,  is  beautiful  and  inspiring. 

The  Transcendentalist  believed  in  man’s  ability  to* 
apprehend  absolute  ideas  of  Truth,  Justice,  Rectitude, 
Goodness ; he  spoke  of  The  Right,  The  True,  The 
Beautiful,  as  eternal  realities  which  he  perceived.  The 
“Sensational”  philosophy  was  shut  up  in  the  relative 
and  conditioned  ; knew  nothing  higher  than  expediency ; 
held  prudence,  caution,  practical  wisdom  in  highest  rank 
among  the  virtues  ; consulted  the  revelations  of  history  ; 
recognized  no  law  above  established  usage  ; went  for 
guidance  to  the  book,  the  record,  the  statute  ; it  could 
not  speak  therefore  with  power,  but  could  only  consider, 
surmise,  cast  probabilities,  devise  plans  and  work  care- 
fully towards  their  execution.  The  Sensationalist  dis-^ 
trusted  the  seer,  rejected  the  prophet,  and  disliked  the 
reformer.  His  aim  was  law  ; his  work  within  easy  dis- 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


182 


lance  ; his  object,  some  plainly  visible  and  appreciable 
satisfaction.  His  faith  in  men  and  women  was  small  ; 
his  trust  in  circumstances  and  conditions  was  unbounded  ; 
but  as  this  faith  had  no  wings,  it  could  neither  raise  its 
possessor  from  the  ground,  nor  speed  him  faster  than  a 
walking  pace.  He  was  easily  satisfied  with  the  world  as 
it  was ; or  if  dissatisfied,  had  little  hope  of  its  being 
made  better  by  anything  he  could  do.  His  helplessness 
and  hopelessness  will  make  him  in  opinion  an  optimist, 
who  finds  it  easier  to  assume  that  the  order  of  the  world 
is  perfect  and  will  so  appear  by  and  by,  than  that  it  is 
made  imperfect  for  him  to  mend.  Optimism  is  perhaps 
oftener  the  creed  of  the  indolent  than  of  the  earnest. 
The  Transcendentalist  was  satisfied  with  nothing  so 
lg  as  it  did  not  correspond  to  the  ideal  in  the  enlight- 
ened soul ; and  in  the  soul  recognized  the  power  to  make 
all  things  new.  Nothing  will  content  him  short  of  the 
absolute  right,  the  eternally  true,  the  unconditioned 
excellence.  He  prays  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  lives 
in  expectation  of  it ; would  not  be  surprised  at  its 
coming  any  day.  For  though  the  distance  is  immense 
between  the  world  as  it  is  and  his  vision  of  the  world  as 
it  should  be — a distance  that  the  Evolutionist  despairs 
of  seeing  traversed  in  thousands  of  years,  if  he  believes 
it  will  be  traversed  at  all, — still,  as  the  power  of  regen- 
eration is  supposed  to  be  in  the  soul  itself,  which  is  pos- 
sessed of  infinite  capacities  and  is  open  continually  to 
inspirations  from  the  world  of  soul,  the  transformation 
may  begin  when  least  expected,  and  may  be  completed 
before  preparation  for  it  can  be  made..  Hence  his 


PRACTICAL  TENDENCIES.  183 

boundless  enthusiasm  and  hope  ; hence  the  order  of 
his  feeling,  the  glow  of  his  language.  Hence  his  dis- 
position to  exaggerate  the  force  of  tendencies  that  point 
in  his  direction  ; to  take  the  brightest  view  of  events, 
and  put  the  happiest  construction  on  the  signs  of  the 
times.  t In  the  anti-slavery  period  the  Transcendentalist 
glorified  the  negro  beyond  all  warrant  of  fact,  seeing  in 
him  an  imprisoned  soul  struggling  to  be  free.  The 
same  soul  he  sees  in  woman  oppressed  by  limitations  ; 
the  same  in  the  drunkard,  the  gambler,  the.  libertine. 
His  eye  is  ever  fixed  on  the  future. 


VIII. 


RELIGION. 


r It  was  by  no  accident  that  the  transcendental  philoso- 
I phy  addressed  itself  at  once  to  the  questions  of  religion. 

It  did  so  at  the  beginning,  in  Germany,  and  later,  in 
''En  gland,  and  did  so  from  the  nature  of  the  case.  Its 
very  name  implied  that  it  maintained  the  existence  of 
^ideas  in  the  mind  which  transcended  sensible  experience. 
Such  ideas  fall  within  the  domain  of  religion  ; ideas  of 
the  infinite,  the  eternal,  the  absolute  ; and  the  signifi- 
cance and  import  of  these  ideas  exercised  the  minds  of 
transcendental  thinkers,  according  to  their  genius. 
Kant  felt  it  necessary  to  reopen  the  problem  of  God 
and  immortality  ; Fichte  followed,  Schelling  and  Hegel 
moved  on  the  same  plane. 

\ Transcendentalism  was,  in  fact,  a reaction  against  the 
moral  and  political  skepticism  which  resulted  directly 
from  the  prevailing  philosophy  of  sensation.  Since 
iBacon’s  day,  religious  beliefs  had  been  taking  hold  on 
the  enlightened  mind  of  England  and  Europe.  The 
drift  of  speculation  was  strongly  against,  not  the  Christ- 
ian system  alone,  but  natural  religion,  and  the  ideal 
foundation  of  morality.  The  writings  of  Collins,  Dod- 
well,  Mandeville,  expressed  more  skepticism  than  they 


RELIGION. 


185 


created,  and  betrayed  a deeply-seated  and  widely- 
spread  misgiving  in  regard  to  the  fundamental  truths 
of  theology.  Hume’s  argument  against  the  credibility 
of  miracles  was  never  answered,  and  the  anxiety  to  an- 
swer it  was  a confession  of  alarm  from  the  heart  of  the 
church.  The  famous  XVIth  chapter  of  Gibbon’s  “De- 
cline and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  ” was  assailed  furi- 
ously, but  in  vain,  each  assault  exposing  the  weakness  of 
the  assailants  ; and  it  was  only  by  adopting  his  history, 
and  editing  it  with  judicious  notes,  that  the  church  silenced 
the  enemy  it  could  not  crush.  The  deists  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  in  no  wise  balanced  their  denials  by  their 
affirmations,  but  left  Christianity  fearfully  shattered  by 
their  blows.  The  champions  of  the  church  fought 
skepticism  with  skepticism,  conceding  in  substance  the 
points  they  superficially  attacked.  Towards  the  close  of 
the  seventeenth  century  Cudworth  confronted  atheism 
with  idealism,  retreating  upon  Plato  when  the  foe  had 
carried  the  other  works  ; early  in  the  century  following, 
Butler,  in  the  celebrated  “Analogy,”  fought  infidelity 
with  weapons  that  infidelity  might  have  turned,  and  since 
has  turned  with  deadly  effect,  against  himself.  The  ablest 
representative  of  Unitarianism  was  Joseph  Priestley,  a 
materialist  of  the  school  of  Hartley.  The  cardinal  be- 
liefs of  religion  were  debated  in  a way  that  was  quite 
unsatisfactory  in  the  light  of  reason,  showing  the  extent 
to  which  faith  had  been  undermined.  Indeed,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  power  of  institutions,  customs,  re- 
spectability, and  tradition,  the  popular  beliefs  would 
have  all  but  disappeared,  so  deep  into  the  heart  of  the 


i86 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


people  unbelief  had  penetrated.  The  church  stood  fast, 
because  it  was  allied  with  power  and  fashion,  not  be- 
cause it  was  supported  by  reason  or  faith.  The  whole 
tone  of  feeling  on  sacred  and  ethical  topics  was  low  ; 
divine  ideas  were  defended  by  considerations  of  expedi- 
ency ; God  was  a probability  ; the  immortality  of  the 
soul  a possibility,  a supplement  to  skepticism,  an  appen- 
dix to  a philosophy  which,  finding  no  God  here,  pre- 
sumed there  must  be  one  hereafter.  There  is  no  more 
soulless  reading  than  the  works  of  the  Christian  apolo- 
gists of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  infidels  had  more 
ideas,  and  apparently  more  sincerity,  but  in  neither  was 
there  any  spiritual  impulse  or  fervor. 

In  Germany  the  philosophy  of  Bacon  and  Locke  did 
not  strike  deep  root.  The  day  of  Germany  was  to  come 
later.  Her  thoughts  were  pent  up  in  her  own  breast. 
She  was  isolated,  and  almost  speechless.  Her  genius 
awoke  with  the  new  philosophy.  Under  the  influence 
of  idealism  it  bloomed  in  the  richest  of  modern  litera- 
tures. Her  very  skepticism,  the  much  talked-of  ra- 
tionalism, had  an  ideal  origin.  Strauss  was  a disciple 
of  Hegel.  Bauer,  and  the  “historical  school  ” of  Tubin- 
gen worked  out  their  problem  of  New  Testament  criti- 
cism from  the  Hegelian  idea,  the  constructive  force 
whereof  was  so  powerful,  that  the  negations  lost  their 
negative  character,  and  showed  primarily  as  affirmations 
of  reason.  By  being  adopted  into  the  line  of  intellec- 
tual development  of  mankind,  Christianity,  though  de- 
throned and  disenchanted,  was  dignified  as  a supreme 
moment  in  the  autobiography  of  God. 


RELIGION. 


187 


Frederick  the  Great,  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  attracted  literary  celebrities  to  his  court,  and 
gave  an  impulse,  so  far,  to  the  German  mind  ; but  the 
French  genius  found  more  encouragement  there  than  the 
German,  and  in  his  time  French  genius  was  speeding  fast 
in  the  way  of  skepticism.  Condillac,  Cabanis,  d’Holbach, 
Helvetius,  were  of  that  generation.  The  “ Encyclopae- 
dists,” the  most  brilliant  men  and  women  of  the  genera- 
tion, were  planning  their  work  of  demolition.  Voltaire 
was  the  great  name  in  contemporary  literature.  The 
books  of  Volney  were  popular  towards  the  end  of  the 
century.  Skepticism  and  materialism  had  the  floor.  It 
was  fashionable  to  ridicule  the  belief  in  personal  immor- 
tality, and  in  enlightened  circles  to  deny  the  existence  of 
God.  The  doctrines  of  Christianity  were  abandoned  to 
priests  and  women  ; philosophers  deemed  them  too  absurd 
to  be  argued  against.  Had  the  assault  been  less  witty  and 
more  scientific,  less  acrimonious  and  more  reasonable,  less 
scornful  and  more  consistent,  its  apparent  success  might 
have  been  permanent.  As  it  was,  a change  of  mood 
occurred  ; a conservative  spirit  succeeded  the  destructive  ; 
order  prevailed  over  anarchy  ; and  the  Catholic  church, 
which  had  only  been  temporarily  thrust  aside — not  fatally 
wounded,  not  by  any  means  disposed  of — regained  its 
suspended  power. 

But  rational  or  intellectual  Christianity — in  other  words 
the  system  of  Protestantism,  in  whatever  form  held — re- 
ceived a severe  blow  in  France  from  these  audacious 
hands.  Religion  took  refuge  in  institutions  and  cere- 
monial forms  ; and  there  remained  little  else  except  a 


iSS 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


kernel  of  sentiment  in  a thin  shell  of  tradition.  What 
beliefs  were  entertained  were  accepted  on  authority ; 
reason  sought  other  fields  of  exercise,  scientific,  philo- 
sophical, literary;  and  a chill  of  indifference  crept  over 
the  once  religious  world.  From  France,  opinions  adverse 
to  Christianity  were  brought  to  America  by  travelled  or 
curious  people  ; they  pervaded  the  creative  minds  of  our 
earliest  epoch,  and  penetrated  far  into  the  popular  intel- 
ligence. The  habit  of  thinking  independently  of  author- 
ity and  tradition  became  confirmed,  and  as  a matter  of 
course  led  to  doubts  and  denials  ; for  thinking  was  done 
in  a temper  of  defiance,  which  constrained  the  thought 
to  obey  the  wish.  Such  philosophical  ideas  as  there 
were,  came  from  France  and  England.  Paley’s  was  the 
last  word  in  morals  ; the  “ Bridgewater  Treatises”  were 
the  received  oracles  in  religion  ; the  rules  of  practical 
judgment  had  usurped  the  dominion  of  faith. 

What  pass  things  had  come  to  in  New  England,  in  the 
centre  of  its  culture,  has  been  described  in  a previous 
chapter.  It  was  time  for  a reaction  to  set  in  ; and  it 
came  in  the  form  of  Transcendentalism.  The  “sensa- 
tional ” philosophy,  it  was  contended,  could  not  supply 
a basis  for  faith.  Its  first  principle  was  “ Nihil  in  intel- 
lect u qnod  non  prius  in  s emu.”  “There  is  nothing  in 
—■^the  intellect  that  was  not  first  in  the  senses.”  From  this 
principle  nothing  but  skepticism  could  proceed.  How, 
for  instance,  asks  the  Transcendentalist,  can  the  sensa- 
tional philosophy  of  Locke  and  his  disciples  give  us  any- 
thing approaching  to  a certainty  of  the  existence  of  God  ? 
The  senses  furnish  no  evidence  of  it.  God  is  not  an 


V 


RELIGION. 


189 


object  of  sensation.  He  is  not  seen,  felt,  heard,  tasted  . 
or  smelt.  The  objects  of  sense  are  material,  local,  inci- 
dental ; God  is  immaterial,  universal,  eternal.  The 
objects  of  sense  are  finite ; but  a finite  God  is  no  God  ; foi^s, 
God  is  infinite.  Is  it  said  that  by  men  of  old,  bible  men, 
God  was  seen,  heard,  clasped  in  human  arms  ? The  reply 
is,  that  whatever  Being  was  so  apparent  and  tangible, 
could  not  have  been  God.  To  the  assertion  that  the 
Being  announced  himself  as  God, — the  infinite, the  eternal 
God, — the  challenge  straightway  is  given  : To  whom  did 
he  say  it?  How  can  it  be  proved  that  he  said  it?  Is 
the  record  of  his  saying  it  authentic  ? Might  not  the 
Being  have  made  a false  statement  ? Can  we  be  certain 
there  was  no  mental  hallucination  ? Suppose  these  and 
other  doubts  of  a similar  character  dispelled,  still,  hear- 
ing is  not  knowing.  All  we  have  is  a tradition  of  God, 
a legend,  a rumor,  a dim  reminiscence,  that  passes  like 
a shadow  across  men’s  minds.  The  appeal  to  miracle  is* 
set  aside  by  historical  skepticism.  The  wonder  lacks 
evidence ; and  to  prove  the  wonder  a miracle,  is 
beyond  achievement.  A possibility,  or  at  most,  a proba- 
bility of  God’s  existence  is  all  that  sensationalism,  with 
every  advantage  given  it,  can  supply.  ^ 

And  if  this  philosophy  fails  to  give  an  assurance  of  | 
God’s  existence,  the  failure  to  throw  light  on  his  attrib- 
utes is  more  signal.  The  senses  report  things  as  they 
exist  in  relations,  not  as  they  exist  in  themselves. 
Neither  absolute  power,  absolute  wisdom  nor  absolute 
goodness  is  hinted  at  by  the  senses.  The  visible  system 
of  things  abounds  in  contradictions  that  we  cannot 


1 90 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


reconcile,  puzzles  we  cannot  explain,  mysteries  we  can- 
not penetrate,  imperfections  we  cannot  account  for, 
wrongs  we  cannot  palliate,  evils  we  cannot  cover  up  or 
justify.  That  a vein  of  wisdom,  an  element  of  good- 
ness, an  infusion  of  loving-kindness  is  in  the  world  is 
evident  ; but  to  show  that,  is  to  go  very  little  way  to- 
wards establishing  the  attributes  of  a Perfect  Being. 
A God  of  limited  power,  wisdom  or  goodness,  is  no 
_God,  and  no  other  does  Sensationalism  offer.  Trans- 
cendentalism points  to  the  fact  that  under  the  auspices 
of  this  philosophy  atheism  has  spread  ; and  along  with 
atheism  the  intellectual  demoralization  that  accompanies 
the  disappearance  of  a cardinal  idea. 

V"  From  this  grave  peril  the  Transcendentalist  found  an 
..scape  in  flight  to  the  spiritual  nature  of  man,  in  virtue 
of  which  he  had  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  God  as  a 
being,  infinite  and  absolute  in  power,  wisdom  and  good- 
ness ; a direct  perception  like  that  which  the  senses  have 
of  material  objects  ; a perception  that  gains  in  distinct- 
ness, clearness  and  positiveness  as  the  faculties  through 
which  it  is  obtained  increase  in  power  and  delicacy.  To 
the  human  mind,  by  its  original  constitution,  belongs  the 
firm  assurance  of  God’s  existence,  as  a half  latent 
fact  of  consciousness,  and  with  it  a dim  sense  of  his 
i moral  attributes.  To  minds  capacious  and  sensitive  the 
truth  was  disclosed  in  lofty  ranges  that  lifted  the  horizon 
line,  in  every  direction,  above  the  cloud  land  of  doubt; 
to  minds  cultivated,  earnest,  devout,  aspiring,  the  revel- 
ation came  in  bursts  of  glory.  The  experiences  of 
inspired  men  and  women  were  repeated.  The  prophet, 


RELIGION'. 


I9I 


^:he  seer,  the  saint,  was  no  longer  a favored  persoiy 
whose  sayings  and  doings  were  recorded  in  the  Bible, 
but  a living  person,  making  manifest  the  wealth 
of  soul  in  all  human  beings.  Communication  with  the 
ideal  world  was  again  opened  through  conscience  ; and 
communion  with  God,  close  and  tender  as  is  anywhere 
described  by  devotees  and  mystics,  was  promised  to  the 
religious  affections. 

The  Transcendentalist  spoke  of  God  with  authority. 
His  God  was  not  possible,  but  real;  not  probable,  but 
certain.  In  his  high  confidence  he  had  small  respect  for 
the  labored  reasonings  of  “ Natural  Religion  ; ” the  ar- 
gument from  design,  so  carefully  elaborated  by  Paley, 
Brougham  and  the  writers  of  the  “ Bridgewater  Treat- 


ises,” was  interesting  and  useful  as  far  as  it  went,  but 
was  remanded  to  an  inferior  place.  The  demonstration  ) 
from  miracle  was  dismissed  with  feelings  bordering  on  | 
contempt,  as  illogical  and  childish. 

Taking  his  faith  with  him  into  the  world  of  nature  ( 
and  of  human  life,  the  Transcendentalist,  sure  of  the 
divine  wisdom  and  love,  fpund  everywhere  joy  fo^ 
mourning  and  beauty  for  ashes.  Passing  through  the 
valley  of  Baca,  he  saw  springs  bubbling  up  from  the 
sand,  and  making  pools  for  thirsty  souls.  Wherever  he 
came,  garments  of  heaviness  were  dropped  and  robes  of 
praise  put  on.  /{Evil  was  but  the  prophecy  of  good, 
wrong  the  servant  of  right,  pain  the  precursor  of  peace, 
sorrow  the  minister  to  joy.  He  would  acknowledge-  no 
exception  to  the  rule  of  an  absolute  justice  and  an  in- 
exorable lovely1  It  was  certain  that  all  was  well,  appear- 


192 


TRANSCENDENTALISM, . 


ances  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  He  was,  as  we 
have  said,  an  optimist — not  of  the  indifferent  sort  that 
make  the  maxim  “Whatever  is,  is  right”  an  excuse  for 
idleness — but  of  the  heroic  kind  who,  by  refreshing  their 
minds  with  thoughts  of  the  absolute  goodness,  keep  alive 
their  faith,  hope,  endeavor,  and  quicken  themselves  to 
efforts  at  understanding,  interpreting  and  bringing  to 
the  surface  the  divine  attributes.  For  himself  he  had 
no  misgivings,  and  no  alarm  at  the  misgivings  of  others; 
believing  them  due,  either  to  some  misunderstanding  that 
might  be  corrected,  or  to  some  moral  defect  that  could 
be  cured.  Even  Atheism,  of  the  crudest,  coarsest, 
most  stubborn  description,  had  no  terrors  for  him.  It 
was  in  his  judgment  a matter  of  definition  mainly. 
Utter  atheism  was  all  but  inconceivable  to  him  ; the 
essential  faith  in  divine  things  under  some  form  of 
mental  perception,  being  too  deeply  planted  in  human 
nature  to  be  eradicated  or  buried. 

Taking  his  belief  with  him  into  the  world  of  history, 
the  Transcendentalist  discovered  the  faith  in  God  beneath 
all  errors,  delusions,  idolatries  and  superstition.  He 
read  it  into  unintelligible  scriptures  ; he  drew  it  forth 
from  obsolete  symbols  ; he  dragged  it  to  the  light  from 
the  darkness  of  hateful  shrines  and  the  bloody  mire  of 
pagan  altars.  Mr.  Parker  meditated  a work  on  the 
reljgious  history  of  mankind, in  which  the  development 
of  the  theistic  idea  was  to  be  traced  from  its  shadowy 
beginnings  to  its  full  maturity  ; and  this  he  meant  should 
be  the  crowning  work  of  his  life.  Sure  of  his  first  prin- 
ciple, he  had  no  hesitation  in  going  into  caves  and  among 


RELIGION. 


*93 


the  ruins  of  temples.  Had  that  work  been  completed, 
the  Transcendentalist’s  faith  in  God  would  have  received 
its  most  eloquent  statement. 

The  other  cardinal  doctrine  of  religion — -the  immortal^ 
ity  of  the  soul, — Transcendentalism  was  proud  of  having 
rescued  from  death  in  the  same  way.  The  philosophy-/ 
of  sensation  could  give  no  assurance  of  personal  im- 
mortality.  Here,  too,  its  fundamental  axiom,  “ Nihil  in 
intellectu  quod  non  prius  in  sensu,”  was  discouraging  t<^ 
belief.  For  immortality  is  not  demonstrable  to  the 
senses.  Experience  affords  no  basis  for  conviction,  ancf 
knowledge  cannot  on  any  pretext  be  claimed.  The  sen- 


sational school  was  divided  into  two  parties.  The  first 
party  confessed  that  the  immortality  of  the  soul  was  a 
thing  not  only  unprovable,  but  a thing  easily  disproved,  a 
thing  improbable,  and,  to  a clear  mind,  impossible  to 
believe.  The  soul  being  a product  of  organization, 
at  all  events  fatally  implicated  in  organization,  con- 
ditioned by  it  in  all  respects,  must  perish  with  organiza- 
tion, as  the  flower  perishes  with  the  stem.  Of  a spirit 
distinct  from  body  there  is,  according  to  this  school,  no 
evidence,  either  before  death  or  after.  Man’s  prospect, 
therefore,  is  bounded  by  this  life.  Dreamers  may  have 
visions  of  another ; mourners  may  sigh  for  another ; 
ardent  natures  may  hope  for  another  ; but  to  believe  in 
another  is,  to  the  rational  mind,  according  to  this  philoso- 
phy, impossible.  The  sentence  “dust  thou  art,  and  to 
dust  thou  shalt  return,”  may  seem  a hard  one ; but  as  it 
cannot  be  reversed  or  modified,  it  must  be  accepted  with 
submission  ; and  in  default  of  another  life,  the  honest  man 
9 


(I). 


194 


TRANSCENDENTAL  ISM. 


will  make  the  most  of  the  life  he  has  ; not  necessarily 
saying  with  the  sensualist:  “ Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for 
to-morrow  we  die  but  with  the  hero  reminding  himself 
that  he  must  “ Work  while  it  is  day,  for  the  night  cometh 
in  which  no  man  can  work.”  The  modern  disciples  of 
this  doctrine  of  annihilation  speak  in  a tone  of  lofty 
courage  of  their  destiny,  and  disguise  under  shining  and 
many- colored  garments  of  anticipation,  the  fact  of  their 
personal  cessation.  The  thinkers  find  refuge  in  the  in- 
tellectual problems  of  the  present ; the  workers  pile  up 
monuments  that  shall  endure  when  they  are  gone  ; poets 
like  George  Eliot,  make  grand  music  on  the  harp-strings 
of  the  common  humanity  ; but  the  fact  remains  that 
the  philosophy  of  experience  abandons,  or  did  before  the 
advent  of  spiritualism — the  expectation  of  an  existence 
after  death. 

i^'The  other  branch  of  the  Sensational  school  fell  back 
on  authority,  and  received  on  the  tradition  of  history 
what  could  not  be  verified  by  science.  Immortality  was 
accepted  as  a doctrine  of  instituted  religion,  taken  on 
the  credit  of  revelation,  and  sealed  by  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus.  As  an  article  of  faith  it  was  accepted 
without  comment.  If  we  have  not  seen  the  glorified 
dead,  others  have,  and  their  witness  is  recorded  in  the 
Scriptures.  Beyond  that  believers  did  not  care  to  go  ; 
beyond  that  advised  no  one  else  to  go.  To  question  the 
genuineness  of  the  Scriptures,  to  cast  doubt  on  the  re- 
surrection of  Jesus,  to  intimate  that  the  tradition  of  the 
church  is  a thin  stream  that  murmurs  pleasantly  in  the 
shade  of  the  sacred  groves,  but  would  dry  up  if  the 


RELIGION. 


J95 


sun-light  were  let  in,  was  resented  as  an  offence  against 
reverence  and  morality.  By  such  as  these  the  belief 
that  slipped  away  from  the  reason  was  detained  by  the 
will. 

But  beliefs  thus  appropriated  are  insecurely  held. 
The  inactivity  of  the  mind  cannot  be  guaranteed  ; a 
slight  disturbance  of  its  tamely  acquiescent  condition 
may  set  its  whole  scheme  of  opinions  afloat.  A sen- 
tence on  a printed  page,  a word  let  fall  in  conversation, 
a discovered  fact,  an  awakened  suspicion,  a suggestion 
of  doubt  by  a friend,  may  stir  the  thought  whose 
movement  will  bring  the  whole  structure  down.  There 
being  no  certainty,  only  arbitrary  content  ; no  personal 
conviction,  only  formal  acquiescence  ; there  was  nothing 
to  prevent  the  belief  from  disappearing  altogether,  and 
leaving  the  mind  vacant. 

Even  when  retained,  beliefs  thus  held  have  no  vitality. 
They  are  not  living  faiths  in  any  intelligent  sense.  Use- 
ful they  may  be  for  pulpit  declamation  and  closet  dis- 
cussion ; serviceable  on  funeral  occasions  and  in 
chambers  of  sorrow  ; available  for  purposes  of  moral 
impression;  but  inspiring  they  are  not ; actively  sustain- 
ing and  consoling  they  are  not.  Their  effect  on  the 
conduct  of  life  is  almost  imperceptible.  They  are  ap- 
pendages to  the  mind,  not  parts  of  it ; proprieties,  not 
properties.  They  are  to  be  reckoned  as  part  of  a man’s 
stock  in  trade,  not  as  part  of  his  being. 

Transcendentalism,  by  taking  the  belief  in  immortali- 
ty out  of  these  incidental  and  doubtful  associations,  and 
making  it  a constituent  element  in  the  constitution  of 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


196 

the  mind  itself,  thought  to  rescue  it  from  its  precarious 
position,  and  place  it  beyond  the  reach  of  danger.  No 
belief  was,  on  the  whole,  so  characteristic  of  Transcen- 
dentalism as  this  ; none  was  so  steadfastly  assumed,  so 
constantly  borne  in  view.  Immortality  was  here  a pos- 
tulate, a first  principle.  Theodore  Parker  called  it  a fact 
of  consciousness— the  intensity  of  his  conviction  render- 
. ing  him  careless  of  precision  in  speech.  The  writings  of 
^Emerson  are  redolent  of  the  faith.  Even  when  he 
argues  in  his  way  against  the  accepted  creed,  and  casts 
doubt  on  every  form  in  which  the  doctrine  is  entertained, 
the  loftiness  of  his  language  about  the  soul  carries  the 
presage  of  immortality  with  it.^The  “ Dial”  has  no  ar- 
gument about  immortality  ; no  paper  in  the  whole  series 
is  devoted  to  the  subject ; the  faith  was  too  deep  and 
essential  to  be  talked  about — it  was  assumed^*  The 
Transcendentalist  was  an  enthusiast  on  this  article.  He 
spoke,  not  as  one  who  surmises,  conjectures,  is  on  the 
whole  inclined  to  think  ; but  as  one  who  knows  beyond 
cavil  or  question.  We  never  met  a man  whose  assur- 
ance of  immortality  was  as  strong  as  Theodore  Parker’s. 
The  objections  of  materialists  did  not  in  the  least  dis- 
turb him.  In  the  company  of  the  most  absolute  of 
them  he  avowed  his  conviction.  What  others  clung  to 
Yas  supports— the  church  tradition,  the  story  of  the 
raising  of  Lazarus,  the  account  of  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus — were  to  him  stumbling  blocks  in  the  way  of 
spiritual  faith,  for  they  drew  attention  away  from  the 
witness  of  the  soul. 

^The  preaching  of  Transcendentalists  caused,  in  all 


RELIGION. 


197 


parts  of  the  country,  a revival  of  interest  and  of  faith 
in  personal  immortality ; spiritualized  the  idea  of  it ; 
enlarged  the  scope  of  the  belief,  an-d  ennobled  its  char- 
acter ; established  an  organic  connection  between  the 
present  life  and  the  future,  making  them  both  one  in  sub- 
stance ; disabused  people  of  the  coarse  notion  that  the 
next  life  was  an  incident  of  their  experience,  and  com- 
pelled them  to  think  of  it  as  a normal  extension  of  their 
being  ; substituted  aspiration  after  spiritual  deliverance 
and  perfection,  for  hope  of  happiness  and  fear  of  misery; 
recalled  attention  to  the  nature  and  capacity  of  the  soul 
itself;  in  a word,  announced  the  natural  immortality  of. 
the  soul  by  virtue  of  its  essential  quality.  The  fanciful 
reasoning  of  Plato’s  “ Phcedon  ” was  supplemented  by 
new  readings  in  psychology,  and  strengthened  by  power- 
ful moral  supports  ; the  highest  desires, the  purest  feelings, 
the  deepest  sympathies,  were  enlisted  in  its  cause;  death 
was  made  incidental  to  life  ; lower  life  was  made  subor- 
dinate to  higher  ; and  men  who  were  beginning  to 
doubt  whether  the  demand  for  personal  immortality  was 
entirely  honorable  in  one  who  utterly  trusted  in  God, 
thoroughly  appreciated  the  actual  world,  and  fairly  re- 
spected his  own  dignity,  were  reassured  by  a faith  which 
promised  felicity  on  terms  that  compromised  neither 
reason  nor  virtue.  The  very  persons  w7ho  had  let  go 
.the  hope  of  immortality  because  they  could  not  accept 
it  at  the  cost  of  sacrificing  their  confidence  in  God’s  in- 
stant justice,  were  glad  to  recover  it  as  a promise  of 
fulfilment  to  their  dearest  desire  for  spiritual  expansion. 

The  Sensational  philosophy  had  done  a worse  harm 


198 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


to  the  belief  in  immortality,  than  by  rendering  the  pros- 
pect of  it  uncertain  ; it  had  rendered  the  character  of  it 
pusillanimous  and  plebeian  ; it  had  demanded  it  on  the 
ground  that  God  must  explain  himself,  must  correct  his 
blunders  and  apologize  for  his  partiality  in  distributing 
sugar  plums  ; it  had  argued  for  it  from  personal,  social, 
sectarian,  and  other  sympathies  and  antipathies  ; it  had 
expected  it  on  the  strength  of  a rumor  that  a specially 
holy  man,  a saint  of  Judea,  had  appeared  after  death  to 
his  peculiar  friends  ; it  had  pleaded  for  it,  as  children 
beg  for  dessert  after  bread  and  meat.  ^The  transcen- 
dental philosophy  dismissed  these  unworthy  claims, 
made  no  demand,  put  up  no  petition,  but  simply  made 
articulate  the  prophecy  of  the  spiritual  nature  in  man, 
and  trusted  the  eternal  goodness  for  its  fulfilment^ 
Other  arguments  might  come  to  the  support  of  this 
anticipation  ; history  might  bring  its  contribution  of 
recorded  facts  ; suffering  and  sorrow  might  add  their 
pathetic  voices,  bewailing  the  oppressive  power  of  cir- 
cumstance, and  crying  for  peace  out  of  affliction  ; the  bio- 
graphies of  Jesus  might  furnish  illustration  of  the  victory 
of  the  greatest  souls  over  death  ; but  considerations  of 
this  kind  received  their  importance  from  the  light  they 
threw  on  the  immortal  attributes  of  spirit.  Apart  from 
these  their  significance  was  gone, 
r The  pure  Transcendentalists  saw  everywhere  evidence 
of  the  greatness  of  the  soul.  Christianity  they  regarded 
jjas  its  chief  manifestation.  Imperfect  Transcendentalists 
there  were,  who  used  the  fundamental  postulates  of  the 
transcendental  philosophy  to  confirm  their  faith  in  super- 


RELIGION. 


199 


natural  realities.  Their  Transcendentalism  amounted 
merely  to  this,  that  man  had  a natural  capacity  for 
receiving  supernatural  truths,  when  presented  by  revela- 
tion. The  possession  of  such  truths,  even  in  germ  ; the 
power  to  unfold  them  naturally,  by  process  of  mental  or 
spiritual  growth;  the  faculty  to  seize,  define,  shape,  legiti- 
mate and  enthrone  them,  they  denied.  The  soul,  acc< 
ing  to  them,  was  recipient,  not  originating  or  creat 


They  continued  to  be  Christians  of  the  “ Evangelical” 
stamp;  champions  of  special  intervention  of  light  and 
grace;  hearty  believers  in  the  divinity  of  the  Christ  and  the 
saving  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  holding  to  the 
peculiar  inspiration  of  the  Bible,  and  the  personal  need 
of  regeneration.  The  wisest  teachers  of  orthodoxy 
belonged  to  this  school. 


The  pure  Transcendentalist  went  much  further.  Ac 


cording  to  him,  the  seeds  of  truth,  if  not  the  out- 
line forms  of  truth,  were  contained  in  the  soul  itself, 
all  ready  to  expand  in  bloom  and  beauty,  as  it  fehA 
the  light  and  heat  of  the  upper  world.  Sir  Kenelm 
Digby  relates  that  in  Padua  he  visited  the  laboratory  of 
a famous  physician,  and  was  there  shown  a small  pile  of 
fine  ashes  under  a glass.  On  the  application  of  a gentle 
heat,  it  arose,  assumed  the  shape  of  its  original  flower, 
all  its  parts  being  perfectly  distinct  in  form  and  well 
defined  in  character.  During  the  application  of  the  heat, 
the  spectral  plant  preserved  its  delicate  outline  ; but  on 
withdrawal  of  the  heat,  it  became  dust  again.  So,  ac^7 
cording  to  the  Transcendentalist,  the  spiritual  being  of 
man — which  apparently  is  a heap  of  lifeless  ashes  on  the 


200 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


surface  of  material  existence — when  graciously  shone 
upon  by  knowledge  and  love,  puts  on  divine  attributes, 
glows  with  beauty,  palpitates  with  joy,  gives  out  flashes 
of  power,  distils  odors  of  sanctity,  and  exhibits  the  marks 
Lof  a celestial  grace.  The  soul,  when  thus  awakened, 
utters  oracles  of  wisdom,  sings,  prophesies,  thunders 
decalogues,  pronounces  beatitudes,  discourses  grandly 
of  God  and  divine  things,  performs  wonders  of  healing 
on  sick  bodies  and  wandering  minds,  rises  to  heights  of 
heroism  and  saintliness. 

From  this  point  of  vision,  it  was  easy  to  survey  the 
history  of  mankind,  and,  in  the  various  religions  of  the 
world,  see  the  efforts  of  the  soul  to  express  itself  in 
scriptures,  emblems,  doctrines,  altar  forms,  architecture, 
painting,  moods  and  demonstrations  of  piety.  The 
Transcendentalist  rendered  full  justice  to  all  these,  studied 
them,  admired  them,  confessed  their  inspiration.  Of 
these  faiths  Christianity  was  cheerfully  acknowledged  to 
be  the  queen.  The  supremacy  of  Jesus  was  granted  with 
enthusiasm.  His  teachings  were  accepted  as  the  purest 
expressions  of  religious  truth  ; His  miracles  were  re- 
garded as  the  natural  achievements  of  a soul  of  such 
^ originality  and  force.  In  his  address  to  the  senior  class 
in  Divinity  College,  1838,  Mr.  Emerson  spoke  of  Christ’s 
miracles  as  being  “ one  with  the  blowing  clover  and  the 
falling  rain,”  and  urged  the  young  candidates  for  the 
ministry  to  let  his  life  and  dialogues  “ lie  as  they  befel, 
active  and  warm,  part  of  human  life,  and  of  the  land- 
scape, and  of  the  cheerful  day.”  When,  in  1840,  Theo- 


Parker  wrote  his  “Levi  Blodgett”  letter,  he 


RELIGION. 


201 


believed  in  miracles,  the  miracles  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment and  many  others  besides,  more  than  the  Christians 
about  him  were  willing  to  accept. 

“It  maybe  said  these  religious  teachers  (Zoroaster, 
Buddha,  Fo)  pretended  to  work  miracles.  I would  not 
deny  that  they  did  work  miracles.  If  a man  is  obedient 
to  the  law  of  his  mind,  conscience  and  heart,  since  his 
intellect,  character  and  affections  are  in  harmony  with 
the  laws  of  God,  I take  it  he  can  do  works  that  are  im- 
possible to  others,  who  have  not  been  so  faithful,  and 
consequently  are  not  “one  with  God”  as  he  is;  and 
this  is  all  that  is  meant  by  a miracle.”  “ The  possession] 
of  this  miraculous  power,  when  it  can  be  proved,  as  I 
look  at  the  thing,  is  only  a sign , which  may  be  un- 
certain, of  the  superior  genius  of  a religious  teacher,  or 
a sign  that  he  will  utter  the  truth,  and  never  a proofs 
thereof.  ” 


The  Transcendentalist  was  a cordial  believer  in  mar- 
vels, as  being  so  hearty  a believer  in  the  potency  of  the 
spiritual  laws.  Parker’s  opposition  to  the  miracles  of  th e~~j 
New  Testament  was  provoked  by  the  exclusive  claim 
that  was  put  forward  by  their  defenders,  and  by  the 
position  they  were  thrust  into  as  pillars  of  doctrine. 
His  wish  to  make  it  appear  that  truth  could  stand  with- 
out  them,  impelled  him  to  strain  at  their  overthrow^// 
Later,  his  studies  in  New  Testament  criticism  confirmed 
his  suspicion  that  the  testimony  in  their  favor  was  alto- 
gether inadequate  to  sustain  their  credibility.  The 
theory  of  Bauer  and  his  disciples  of  the  Tubingen  school 
seemed  to  him  unanswerable,  and  he  abandoned,  as  a 
scholar,  much  that  as  a Transcendentalist  he  might  have 
9* 


202 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


been  disposed  to  retain.  W.  H.  Furness,  author  of 
several  biographical  studies  on  the  life  and  character  of 
Jesus — a Transcendentalist  of  the  most  impassioned 
school,  but  no  adept  in  historical  criticism — maintained 
to  the  last  the  credibility  of  the  Christian  miracles,  and 
purely  on  the  ground  of  their  perfect  naturalness  as 
performed  by  a person  so  spiritually  exalted  as  Jesus 
was.  The  more  ardent  his  admiration  of  that  character, 
the  more  unshrinking  his  belief  in  these  manifestations 
of  its  superiority.  Dr.  Furness  is  prepared  to  think 
that  if  no  miracles  had  been  recorded,  nevertheless 
miracles  must  have  been  wrought,  and  would,  but  for 
some  blindness  or  skepticism,  have  been  mentioned. 

The  charge  that  Transcendentalism  denied  the  reality 
of  supernatural  powers  and  influences  shows  how  im- 
perfectly it  was  apprehended.  It  seemed  to  deny  them 
because  it  transferred  them  to  another  sphere.  t~It 
regarded  man  himself  as  a supernatural  being^  not  the 
last  product  of  nature,  but  the  lord  of  nature  ; not  the 
creature  of  organization,  but  its  creator.  In  its  extreme 
form,  Transcendentalism  was  a deification  of  nature,  in 
the  highest  aspects  of  Beauty.  It  raised  human  qualities 
to  the  supreme  power ; it  ascribed  to  extraordinary 
virtue  in  its  exalted  states  the  efficient  grace  that  is  com- 
monly attributed  to  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  pure  Trans- 
cendentalist spoke  of  the  experiences  and  powers  of  the 
illuminated  soul  with  as  much  extravagance  of  rapture 
as  one  of  the  newly  redeemed  ever  expressed.  The 
profane  made  sport  of  his  fanaticisms  and  fervors  in  the 
same  way  that  they  made  sport  of  the  wild  over-gush  of 


RELIGION. 


203 


a revival  meeting.  The  demonstrations  of  feeling  were 
in  fact,  precisely  similar ; only  in  the  one  case  the  excite- 
ment was  traced  to  the  Christ  in  the  skies,  in  the  other 
to  the  Christ  who  was  the  soul  of  the  man  ; in  the  one  case 
a superhuman  being  was  imagined  as  operating  on  the 
soul;  in  the  other  case  the  soul  was  supposed  to  be 
giving  expression  to  itself. 

The  Transcendentalist  was  not  careful  enough  in  making 
this  distinction,  and  was,  therefore,  to  blame  for  a por- 
tion of  the  misapprehension  that  ensued.  He  often 
found  in  sacred  literature,  thoughts  which  he  himself 
put  there.  Parker,  discoursing  of  inspiration,  cites  Paul 
and  John  as  holding  the  same  doctrine  with  himself; 
though  it  is  plain  to  the  single  mind  that  their  doctrine 
was  in  no  respect  the  same,  but  so  different  as  to  be  in 
contradiction.  Paul  and  John,  it  is  hardly  too  much  to 
say,  set  up  their  doctrine  in  precise  opposition  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  Transcendentalists.  Paul  declared  that 
the  natural  man  could  not  discern  divine  things  ; that 
they  were  foolishness  to  him  ; that  they  must  be  spiritu- 
ally discerned  ; that  the  Christian  was  able  to  discern  them 
spiritually  because  he  had  the  “ mind  of  Christ.”  The 
eighth  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  contains 
sentences  that,  taken  singly,  apart  from  their  connection, 
comfort  the  cockles  of  the  transcendental  heart ; but  the 
writer  is  glorifying  Christ  the  inspirer  ; not  the  soul  the 
inspired.  He  opens  the  chapter  with  the  affirmation  that 
“ there  is  no  condemnation  to  them  which  are  in  CHP.IST 
JESUS,  who  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  spirit,” 
and  follows  it  with  the  saying  that  “ if  any  man  have  not 


204 


TRANS;  CENDEN  TA  L ISM. 


the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his.’’  This  is  the  spirit 
that  “ quickens  mortal  bodies,”  that  makes  believers  to 
be  “ Sons  of  God,”  giving  them  the  spirit  of  adoption 
whereby  they  cry  “ Abba,  Father,”  bearing  witness  with 
their  spirit  that  they  are  “ the  children  of  God.”  This  is 
the  spirit  that  “ helpeth  our  infirmities,”  and  “ maketlp 

intercession  with  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered.” 

r p 

ranscendentalism  deliberately  broke  with  Christianity. 
Paul  said  “ other  foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is 
laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ.”  Transcendentalism  re- 
sponded: “Jesus  Christ  built  on  my  foundation,  the 
soul ; ” and,  for  thus  answering,  was  classed  with  those 
who  used  as  building  materials  “wood,  hay,  stubble,” 
x\which  the  fire  would  consume.  In  the  view  of  Trans- 
cendentalism, Christianity  was  an  illustrious  form  of 
natural  religion — Jesus  was  a noble  type  of  human 
■k  nature  ; revelation  was  disclosure  of  the  soul’s  mystery  ; 

inspiration  was  the  filling  of  the  soul’s  lungs  ; salvation 
1 was  spiritual  vitality. 

Transcendentalism  carried  its  appeal  to  metaphysics. 
At  present  physics  have  the  floor.  Our  recent  studies 
have  been  in  the  natural  history  of  the  soul.  Its  spiritual 
history  is  discredited.  But  the  human  mind  ebbs  and 
flows.  The  Bains  and  Spencers  and  Taines  may  presently 
give  place  to  other  prophets  ; psychology  may  come  to 
the  front  again,  and  with  it  will  reappear  the  sages  and 
seers.  In  that  event,  the  religion  of  Transcendentalism 
will  revive,  and  will  have  a long  and  fair  day. 

For  it  can  hardly  be  supposed  that  the  present  move- 
ment in  the  line  of  observation  is  the  final  one  ; that 


RELIGION. 


205 


henceforth  we  are  to  continue  straight  on  till,  by  the 
path  of  physiology,  we  arrive  at  absolute  truth  ; that 
idealism  is  dead  and  gone  for  ever,  and  materialism  of 
a refined  type  holds  the  future  in  its  hand.  The 
triumphs  of  the  scientific  method  in  the  natural  world 
are  wonderful.  The  law  of  evolution  has  its  lap  full  of 
promise.  But  one  who  has  studied  at  all  the  history  of 
human  thought ; who  has  seen  philosophies  crowned 
and  discrowned,  sceptred  and  outcast ; who  has  followed 
the  changing  fortunes  of  opposing  schools,  and  witnessed 
the  alternate  victories  and  defeats  that  threatened,  each 
in  its  turn,  to  decide  the  fate  of  philosophy,  will  be  slow  to 
believe  that  the  final  conflict  has  been  fought,  or  is  to 
be,  for  hundreds  of  years  to  come.  The  principles  of  the 
“ Sensational  ” philosophy  have,  within  the  last  half  cen- 
tury, been  revived  and  restated  with  great  power  by  Mill, 
Bain,  Spencer,  Taine,  and  other  leaders  of  speculative  op- 
inion both  in  England  and  Europe.  Recent  discoveries 
and  generalizations  in  physical  science  have  lent  counten- 
ance to  them.  The  investigations  in  physiology  and  biol- 
ogy, the  researches  in  the  regions  of  natural  history,  the 
revelations  of  chemistry,  have  all  combined  to  confirm 
their  truth.  Psychology,  in  the  hands  of  its  latest 
masters,  has  worked  successfully  in  their  interest.  The 
thinness,  shallowness  and  dry  technicality  of  the  original 
school  have  given  place  to  a rich  and  varied  exposition 
of  the  facts  of  organic  life  in  its  origin,  development 
and  results.  The  original  form  of  the  Sensational 
philosophy  as  it  prevailed  in  Europe  is  described  by 
Mill  as  “ the  shallowest  set  of  doctrines  which  perhaps, 


206 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


were  ever  passed  off  upon  a cultivated  age  as  a complete 
psychological  system ; a system  which  affected  to 
resolve  all  the  phenomena  of  the  human  mind  into  sen- 
sation, by  a process  which  essentially  consisted  in  merely 
calling  all  states  of  mind,  however  heterogeneous,  by 
that  name ; a philosophy  now  acknowledged  to  consist 
solely  of  a set  of  verbal  generalizations,  explaining 
nothing,  distinguishing  nothing,  leading  to  nothing.” 
The  “ Sensational”  philosophy  is  now  presented  as  the 
philosophy  of  “experience.”  Its  occupation  is  to 
resolve  into  results  of  experience  and  processes  of 
organic  life  the  a priori  conceptions  that  have  been 
accepted  as  simple  and  primitive  data  of  consciousness, 
by  the  Ideal  philosophy.  Mill  was  one  of  the  first  to 
undertake  this  from  the  psychological  side,  analyzing 
the  processes  of  reason,  and  making  account  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  mind.  Lewes,  Spencer,  Tyndall  have 
approached  the  same  problem  from  the  side  of  organ- 
ization. In  the  first  edition  of  the  Logic,  Mill  clearly 
indicated  the  ground  he  took  in  the  controversy  between 
the  two  schools ; in  the  last  edition,  he  defined  his 
position  more  clearly,  against  Whewell,  and  in  agree- 
ment with  Bain. 

In  the  article  on  Coleridge,  published  in  the  London 
and  Westminister  Review,  March,  1840,  and  repub- 
lished in  the  second  volume  of  “ Dissertations  and  Dis- 
cussions,” Mill  declares  explicitly,  that  in  his  judgment, 
the  truth  on  the  much-debated  question  between  the 
two  philosophies  lies  with  the  school  of  Locke  and 
Bentham  : 


RELIGION. 


207 


“ The  nature  of  laws  and  things  in  themselves,  or  the 
hidden  causes  of  the  phenomena  which  are  the  objects 
of  experience,  appear  to  us  radically  inaccessible  to  the 
human  faculties.  We  see  no  ground  for  believing  that 
any  thing  can  be  the  object  of  our  knowledge  except 
our  experience,  and  what  can  be  inferred  from  our  expe- 
rience by  the  analogies  of  experience  itself ; nor  that 
there  is  any  idea,  feeling  or  power  in  the  human  mind, 
which,  in  order  to  account  for  it,  requires  that  its  origin 
should  be  referred  to  any  other  source.  We  are,  there- 
fore, at  issue  with  Coleridge  on  the  central  idea  of  his 
philosophy  ; and  we  find  no  need  of,  and  no  use  for,  the 
peculiar  technical  terminology  which  he  and  his  masters, 
the  Germans,  have  introduced  into  philosophy,  for  the 
double  purpose  of  giving  logical  precision  to  doctrines 
which  we  do  not  admit,  and  of  marking  a relation  between 
those  abstract  doctrines  and  many  concrete  experimental 
truths,  which  this  language,  in  our  judgment,  serves  not 
to  elucidate,  but  to  disguise  and  obscure.” 


In  the  examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton’s  Philoso- 
phy, he  still  more  emphatically  expressed  his  dissent 
from  Schelling,  Cousin,  and  every  school  of  idealism,  re- 
jecting the  doctrine  of  intuitive  knowledge  ; taking  the 
eternal  ground  from  beneath  the  ideas  of  the  Infinite 
and  Absolute  ; sharply  questioning  the  well-conceded  in- 
terpretations of  consciousness;  resolving  the  “first  prin- 
ciples” into  mental  habits;  and  even  going  so  far  as  to 
doubt  whether  twice  two  necessarily  made  four.* 

The  system  of  Spencer  and  other  expositors  of  the 
doctrine  of  evolution  is,  in  its  general  features  and  its 
ultimate  tendency,  too  familiar  to  be  stated.  Its  hostili- 


* Vol.  1 , page  89,  90. 


208 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


ty  to  the  intuitive  philosophy  must  be  obvious  even  to 
unpractised  minds.  The  atomic  theory  of  the  constitu- 
tion of  matter,  which,  in  one  or  another  form,  is  accepted 
by  the  majority  of  scientific  men,  gives  ominous  predic- 
tion of  disaster  to  every  scheme  that  is  built  on  the  ne- 
cessary truths  of  pure  reason. 

But  the  philosophers  of  the  experimental  school  are 
by  no  means  in  accord  among  themselves,  on  a matter 
so  cardinal  as  the  relation  of  mind  to  organization.  In 
the  latest  edition  of  the  Logic,  Mill  repeats  the  language 
used  in  the  first  :* 

“ That  every  mental  state  has  a nervous  state  for  its 
immediate  antecedent,  though  extremely  probable,  can- 
not hitherto  be  said  to  be  proved,  in  the  conclusive  man- 
ner in  which  this  can  be  proved  of  sensations  ; and  even 
were  it  certain,  yet  every  one  must  admit  that  we  are 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  characteristics  of  these  nervous 
states  ; we  know  not,  and  have  no  means  of  knowing, 
in  what  respect  one  of  them  differs  from  another.  . . . 

The  successions,  therefore,  which  obtain  among  mental 
phenomena, . do  not  admit  of  being  deduced  from  the 
physiological  laws  of  our  nervous  organization.”  “ It 
must  by  no  means  be  forgotten  that  the  laws  of  mind 
maybe  derivative  laws  resulting  from  laws  of  animal  life, 
and  that  their  truth,  therefore,  may  ultimately  depend 
on  physical  conditions  ; and  the  influence  of  physiologi- 
cal states  or  physiological  changes  in  altering  or  counter- 
acting the  mental  successions,  is  one  of  the  most  import- 
ant departments  of  psychological  study.  But  on  the 
other  hand,  to  reject  the  resource  of  psychological 
analysis,  and  construct  the  theory  of  mind  solely  on  such 
data  as  physiology  affords  at  present,  seems  to  me  as 


Logic,  p.  591.  Amer.  Edition. 


RELIGION. 


209 


great  an  error  in  principle,  and  an  even  more  serious 
one  in  practice.  Imperfect  as  is  the  science  of  mind,  I 
do  not  scruple  to  affirm  that  it  is  in  a considerably  more 
advanced  state  than  the  portion  of  physiology  which 
corresponds  with  it ; and  to  discard  the  former  for  the 
latter  appears  to  me  to  be  an  infringement  of  the  true 
canons  of  inductive  philosophy.” 

In  a previous  chapter  * Mill  had  said  : 

“ I am  far  from  pretending  that  it  may  not  be  capable 
of  proof,  or  that  it  is  not  an  important  addition  to  our 
knowledge,  if  proved,  that  certain  motions  in  the  parti- 
cles of  bodies  are  the  conditions  of  the  production  of 
heat  or  light  ; that  certain  assignable  physical  modifica- 
tions of  the  nerves  may  be  the  conditions,  not  only  of 
our  sensations  and  emotions,  but  even  of  our  thoughts  ; 
that  certain  mechanical  and  chemical  conditions  may,  in 
the  order  of  nature,  be  sufficient  to  determine  to  action 
the  physiological  laws  of  life.  All  I insist  upon,  in 
common  with  every  thinker  who  entertains  any  clear 
idea  of  the  logic  of  science,  is,  that  it  shall  not  be  sup- 
posed that  by  proving  these  things,  one  step  would  be 
made  toward  a real  explanation  of  heat,  light,  or  sensa- 
tion ; or  that  the  generic  peculiarity  of  those  phenomena 
can  be  in  the  least  degree  evaded  by  any  such  discov- 
eries, however  well  established.  Let  it  be  shown,  for 
instance,  that  the  mosbcomplex  series  of  physical  causes 
and  effects  succeed  one  another  in  the  eye  and  in  the 
brain,  to  produce  a sense  of  color  ; rays  falling  on  the 
eye,  refracted,  converging,  crossing  one  another,  making 
an  inverted  image  on  the  retina  ; and  after  this  a mo- 
tion— let  it  be  a vibration,  or  a rush  of  nervous  fluid,  or 
whatever  else  you  are  pleased  to  suppose,  along  the 
optic  nerve — -a  propagation  of  this  motion  to  the  brain 
itself,  and  as  many  more  different  motions  as  you 


* Logic,  p.  548.  Amer.  Edition. 


210  7'RANS  CENDENTALISM. 

choose;  still,  at  the  encl  of  these  motions  there  is  some- 
thing which  is  not  motion,  there  is  a feeling  or  sensation 
of  color.  The  mode  in  which  any  one  of  the  motions 
produces  the  next,  may  possibly  be  susceptible  of  ex- 
planation by  some  general  law  of  motion  ; but  the  mode 
in  which  the  last  motion  produces  the  sensation  of  color 
cannot  be  explained  by  any  motion  ; it  is  the  law  of 
color,  which  is,  and  must  always  remain  a peculiar  thing. 
Where  our  consciousness  recognizes  between  two 
phenomena  an  inherent  distinction  ; where  we  are  sen- 
sible of  a difference,  which  is  not  merely  of  degree; 
and  feel  that  no  adding  one  of  the  phenomena  to  itself 
will  produce  the  other  ; any  theory  which  attempts  to 
bring  either  under  the  laws  of  the  other  must  be 
false.” 


To  precisely  the  same  effect,  DuBois  Reymond,  in  an 
address  to  the  Congress  of  German  Naturalists  given  in 
Leipsic  : 

f 

“It  is  absolutely  and  forever  inconceivable  that  a 
number  of  carbon,  hydrogen,  nitrogen  and  oxygen  atoms, 
should  be  otherwise  than  indifferent  to  their  own  position 
and  motion,  past,  present,  or  future.  It  is  utterly  incon- 
ceivable how  consciousness,  should  result  from  their  joint 
action.” 


The  position  of  John  Tyndall  is  well  understood.  It 
was  avowed  in  i860  in  the  Saturday  Revieiv  / again  in 
his  address  to  the  Mathematical  and  Physical  Section  of 
the  British  Association  in  1868,  wherein  he  declared 
that 


“ The  passage  from  the  physics  of  the  brain  to  the  cor- 
responding facts  of  consciousness  is  unthinkable.  Granted 


RELIGION, ; 


2TT 


that  a thought  and  a definite  molecular  action  in  the 
brain  occur  simultaneously,  we  do  not  possess  the  organ, 
nor,  apparently,  any  rudiment  of  the  organ,  which  would 
enable  us  to  pass  by  a process  of  reasoning  from  the  one 
phenomenon  to  the  other.  They  appear  together,  but 
we  do  not  know  why.” 

In  1875.  reviewing  Martineau  in  the  Popular  Science 
Monthly  for  December,  Tyndall  calls  attention  to  these 
declarations,  and  quotes  other  language  of  his  own  to 
the  same  purpose: 


‘1  You  cannot  satisfy  the  understanding  in  its  demand 
for  logical  continuity  between  molecular  processes  and 
the  phenomena  of  consciousness.  This  is  a rock  on 
which  materialism  must  inevitably  split  whenever  it  pre- 
tends to  be  a complete  philosophy  of  the  human  mind.” 


Mr.  John  Fiske,  a disciple  of  Herbert  Spencer,  and  an 
exceedingly  able  expositor  of  the  philosophy  of  which 
Spencer  is  the  acknowledged  chief,  makes  assertions 
equally  positive  : * 


“ However  strict  the  parallelism  may  be  within  the 
limits  of  our  experience,  between  the  phenomena  of 
the  mind,  and  the  segment  of  the  circle  of  motions,  the 
task  of  transcending  or  abolishing  the  radical  antithesis 
between  the  phenomena  of  mind  and  the  phenomena  of 
matter,  must  always  remain  an  impracticable  task  ; for, 
in  order  to  transcend  or  abolish  this  radical  antithesis, 
we  must  be  prepared  to  show  how  a given  quantity  of 
molecular  motion  in  nerve  tissue  can  be  transformed  into 


* Outlines  of  Cosmic  Philosophy,  Vol.  II. , p.  442. 


212 


TRANSCENDENTALISM, \ 


a definable  amount  of  ideation  or  feeling.  But  this,  it  is 
quite  safe  to  say,  can  never  be  done.” 

There  are  of  course,  distinguished  names  on  the  other 
side.  The  work  on  “ Intelligence,”  by  Mr.  Taine,  which 
Mr.  Mill  warmly  commends  as  the  “ the  first  serious 
effort  (in  France)  to  supply  the  want  of  a better  than  the 
official  psychology,”  cannot  be  wisely  overlooked  by  any 
one  interested  in  this  problem.  Taine  objects  to  Tyn- 
dall’s statement  of  the  problem,  declares  that  by 
approaching  it  from  another  point,  it  is  soluble,  and 
frankly  undertakes  to  solve  it.* 


“When  we  consider  closely  any  one  of  our  concep- 
tions— that  of  a plant,  an  animal,  a mineral — we  find  that 
the  primitive  threads  of  which  it  is  woven,  are  sensations, 
and  sensations  only.  We  have  proof  of  this  already  if 
we  recollect  that  our  ideas  are  only  reviving  sensations, 
that  our  ideas  are  nothing  more  than  images  which  have 
become  signs,  and  that  thus  this  elementary  tissue  sub- 
sists in  a more  or  less  disguised  form  at  all  stages  of  our 
thought.”  “ It  is  true  that  we  cannot  conceive  the  two 
events  otherwise  than  as  irreducible  to  one  another;  but 
that  may  depend  on  the  wtay  we  conceive  them,  and  not 
on  their  actual  qualities;  their  incompatibility  is  perhaps 
rather  apparent  than  real;  it  arises  on  our  side  and  not 
on  theirs.” 

Mr.  George  H.  Lewes  t follows  closely  Taine’s  line  of 
argument,  but  developes  it  with  more  system.  He  too 
quotes  Tyndall,  alludes  to  DuBois  Reymond  and  makes 


* On  Intelligence,  Book  III.,  chap.  I. 

I Problems  of  Life  and  Mind  II.  pp.  410,  415. 


RELIGION. 


213 


reference  to  Mill.  Lewes  holds  it  to  be  a severe  deduc- 
tion from  proven  facts  “ that  the  neural  process  and  the 
feeling  are  one  and  the  same  process  viewed  under  differ- 
ent aspects.  Viewed  from  the  physical  or  objective  side, 
it  is  a neural  process  ; viewed  from  the  psychological  or 
subjective  side,  it  is  a sentient  process.” 

“ It  is  not  wonderful  that  conceptions  so  dissimilar  as 
those  of  Motion  and  Feeling  should  seem  irreducible  to 
a common  term,  while  the  one  is  regarded  as  the  symbol 
of  a process  in  the  object,  and  the  other  as  the  symbol  of 
a process  in  the  subject.  But  psychological  analysis 
leads  to  the  conclusion  that  the  objective  process  and 
the  subjective  process  are  simply  the  twofold  aspects  of 
one  and  the  same  fact  ; in  the  one  aspect  it  is  the  Felt, 
in  the  other  it  is  the  Feeling.” 

For  the  remarkable  reasonings  by  which  these  asser- 
tions are  justified,  the  readers  must  consult  the  works 
quoted.  Their  novelty  renders  any  but  an  extended 
account  of  them  unfair  ; and  an  extended  account  would 
be  out  of  place  in  a general  study  like  this. 

Should  the  analyses  of  Taine  and  Lewes  prove  success- 
ful at  last,  and  be  accepted  by  the  authorities  in  specula- 
tive philosophy,  idealism,  as  a philosophy,  must  disap- 
pear. The  days  of  metaphysics  in  the  old  sense,  will 
be  numbered  ; the  German  schools  from  Kant  to  Hegel 
will  become  obsolete  ; Jacobi’s  doctrine  of  faith,  Fichte’s 
doctrine  of  the  absolute  Ego,  Schelling’s  doctrine  of 
intellectual  intuition,  will  be  forgotten;  Cousin’s  influence 
will  be  gone  ; the  fundamental  ideas  of  Transcendental 
teachers,  French,  English,  American,  will  be  discredited  ; 


214 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


and  the  beliefs  founded  on  them  will  fade  away.  There 
will,  however,  be  no  cause  to  apprehend  the  personal, 
social,  moral  or  spiritual  demoralization  which  the 
“ Sensualist  ” doctrines  of  the  last  century  were  accused 
of  encouraging.  The  attitude  of  the  human  mind 
towards  the  great  problems  of  destiny  has  so  far  altered, 
the  problems  themselves  have  so  far  changed  their  face, 
that  no  shock  will  be  felt  in  the  passage  from  the  philos- 
ophy of  intuition  to  that  of  experience.  Questions 
respecting  the  origin,  order  and  regulation  of  the  world, 
the  laws  of  character,  the  constitution  of  society,  the 
conditions  of  welfare,  the  prospects  and  relations  of  the 
individual,  are  put  in  new  forms,  discussed  by  new  argu- 
ments, and  answered  by  new  assurances.  The  words 
atheism  and  materialism  have  passed  through  so  many 
definitions,  the  conceptions  they  stand  for  have  become 
so  completely  transformed  by  the  mutations  of  thought, 
that  the  ancient  antipathies  are  not  longer  excusable  ; 
the  ancient  fears  are  weak.  The  sanctities  that  once 
were  set  apart  in  ideal  shrines  will  be  perfectly  at  home 
among  the  demonstrated  facts  of  common  life. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  school  to  which  Spencer, 
Fiske  and  Tyndall  belong  is  right,  the  science  of  mind 
will  recover  its  old  dignity,  though  under  new  conditions. 
Nobody  has  spoken  more  plainly  against  the  intuitive 
philosophy,  than  Mill.  No  one  probably  is  further  from 
it  than  Tyndall,  though  he  responds  in  sentiment  to  the 
eloquent  affirmations  of  Martineau,  and  quotes  Emerson 
enthusiastically,  as  “ a profoundly  religious  man  who  is 
really  and  entirely  undaunted  by  the  discoveries  of 


RELIGION. 


215 


science,  past,  present  or  prospective ; one  by  whom 
scientific  conceptions  are  continually  transmuted  into  the 
finer  forms  and  warmer  hues  of  an  ideal  world.” 
Under  the  influences  of  the  new  psychology,  dogmatic 
idealism  will  probably  be  deprived  of  its  sceptre  and 
sway.  The  claim  to  intuitive  knowledge  of  definite 
truths  of  any  order  whatsoever  will  be  abandoned,  as 
untenable  on  scientific  or  philosophical  grounds  ; but 
imagination,  which,  as  Emerson  says,  “ respects  the 
cause,” — “ the  vision  of  an  inspired  soul  reading  argu- 
ments and  affirmations  in  all  nature  of  that  which  it  is 
driven  to  say  ; ” emotion,  which  contains  all  the  possi- 
bilities of  feeling  and  hope  ; the  moral  sentiment,  which 
affirms  principles  with  imperative  authority ; these 
remain,  and  claim  their  right  to  create  ideal  worlds  of 
which  the  natural  world  is  image  and  symbol.  The 
Transcendentalism  which  concedes  to  all  mankind  spirit- 
ual faculties  by  virtue  whereof  divine  entities  are  seen 
in  definite  shape — the  personal  God — the  city  of  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem — will  be  superseded  by  the  poetic 
idealism  that  is  the  cheer  and  inspiration  of  poetic 
minds,  animating  them  with  fine  visions,  and  gladdening 
them  with  unfading,  though  vague,  anticipations. 

The  Transcendental  doctrine  has  been  exposed  to  most 
deadly  assault  on  the  ethical  side.  The  theory  of  moral 
intuition,  which  held  that  “ every  man  is,  according  to  the 
cautious  statement  of  James  Walker,  born  with  a moral 
faculty,  or  the  elements  of  a moral  faculty,  which,  on 
being  developed,  creates  in  him  the  idea  of  a right  and 
a wrong  in  human  conduct ; which  summons  him  before 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


216 

the  tribunal  of  his  own  soul  for  judgment  on  the  rectitude 
of  his  purposes;  which  grows  up  into  an  habitual  sense 
of  personal  responsibility,  and  thus  prepares  him,  as  his 
views  are  enlarged,  to  comprehend  the  moral  government 
of  God,  and  to  feel  his  own  responsibility  to  God  as  a 
moral  governor,” — has  fallen  into  general  disrepute  ; and 
in  its  place  a persuasion  is  abroad,  that,  in  the  language 
of  Grote,  “ the  universal  and  essential  tendencies  of  the 
moral  sense,  admit  of  being  most  satisfactorily  deduced 
from  other  elementary  principles  of  our  nature.”  It  is 
now  a widely  accepted  belief  among  conservative 
thinkers,  that  “conscience”  is  not  a faculty,  or  an 
element,  existing  here  in  germ,  there  in  maturity  ; but  is 
the  result  of  social  experience.  Moderate  Transcenden- 
talists  conceded  the  necessity  of  educating  conscience, 
which  still  implied  the  existence  of  a conscience  or  moral 
sense  to  be  educated.  It  is  now  contended  that  con- 
science itself  is  a product  of  education,  a deposit  left  in 
the  crucible  of  experiment,  a habit  formed  by  the  usage 
of  mankind.  The  justification  of  this  view  has  gone  so 
far,  that  it  seems  likely  to  become  the  recognized  account 
of  this  matter;  but  in  course  of  substantiating  this  doc- 
trine, a new  foundation  for  ethical  feeling  and  judgment 
is  laid,  which  is  as  immovable  as  the  transcendental 
“ facts  of  consciousness.”  The  moral  sentiments  are 
represented  as  resting  on  the  entire  past  of  the  race,  on 
reefs  of  fact  built  up  by  the  lives  of  millions  of  men,  from 
the  bottom  of  the  deep  of  humanity.  The  finest  moral 
sensibility  caps  the  peak  of  the  world’s  effort  at  self- 
adjustment, as  the  white,  unsullied  snow  rests  on  the 


RELIGION. 


217 


summit  of  the  Jungfrau.  The  intuition  is  referred  to  in 
another  genesis,  but  it  is  equally  clear  and  equally 
certain.  The  difference  of  origin  creates  no  difference 
of  character.  Moral  distinctions  are  precisely  the  same 
for  idealists  and  sensationalists.  Here  at  least,  the  trans- 
cendentalist  and  his  adversary  can  dwell  in  amity 
together. 


IX. 


THE  SEER. 

A DISCERNING  German  writer,  Herman  Grimm,  closes 
a volume  of  fifteen  essays,  with  one  on  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson,  written  in  1 86 1 , approved  in  1874.  The  essay 
is  interesting,  apart  from  its  literary  merit,  as  giving  the 
impression  made  by  Mr.  Emerson  on  a foreigner  to 
whom  his  reputation  was  unknown,  and  a man  of  culture 
to  whom  books  and  opinions  rarely  brought  surprise. 
He  saw  a volume  of  the  “ Essays  ” lying  on  the  table  of 
an  American  acquaintance,  looked  into  it,  and  was  sur- 
prised that,  being  tolerably  well  practised  in  reading  Eng- 
lish, he  understood  next  to  nothing  of  the  contents.  He 
asked  about  the  author,  and,  learning  that  he  was  highly 
esteemed  in  his  own  country,  he  opened  the  book  again, 
read  further,  and  was  so  much  struck  by  passages 
here  and  there,  that  he  borrowed  it,  carried  it  home, 
took  down  Webster’s  dictionary,  and  began  reading  in 
earnest.  The  extraordinary  construction  of  the  sentences, 
the  apparent  absence  of  logical  continuity,  the  unexpected 
turns  of  thought,  the  use  of  original  words,  embarrassed 
him  at  first ; but  soon  he  discovered  the  secret  and  felt 
the  charm.  The  man  had  fresh  thoughts,  employed  a 
living  speech,  was  a genuine  person.  The  book  was 


THE  SEER. 


219 


bought,  read  and  re-read,  “ and  now  every  time  I take  it 
up,  I seem  to  take  it  up  for  the  first  time.” 

The  power  that  the  richest  genius  has  in  Shakspeare, 
Rafael,  Goethe,  Beethoven,  to  reconcile  the  soul  to  life, 
to  give  joy  for  heaviness,  to  dissipate  fears,  to  transfigure 
care  and  toil,  to  convert  lead  into  gold,  and  lift  the  veil 
that  conceals  the  forms  of  hope,  Grimm  ascribes  in  the 
highest  measure  to  Emerson. 


“ As  I read,  all  seems  old  and  familiar  as  if  it  was  my 
own  well-worn  thought  ; all  seems  new  as  if  it  never 
occurred  to  me  before.  I found  myself  depending  on 
the  book  and  was  provoked  with  myself  for  it.  How 
could  I be  so  captured  and  enthralled  ; so  fascinated  and 
bewitched  ? The  writer  was  but  a man  like  any  other  ; 
yet,  on  taking  up  the  volume  again,  the  spell  was  re- 
newed— I felt  the  pure  air ; the  old  weather-beaten 
motives  recovered  their  tone.” 

To  him  Emerson  seemed  to  stand  on  the  ground  of 
simple  fact,  which  he  accepted  in  all  sincerity. 


“ He  regards  the  world  in  its  immediate  aspect,  with 
fresh  vision  ; the  thing  done  or  occurring  before  him 
'opens  the  way  to  serene  heights.  The  living  have  pre- 
cedence of  the  dead.  Even  the  living  of  to-day  of  the 
Greeks  of  yesterday,  nobly  as  the  latter  thought,  moulded, 
chiselled,  sang.  For  me  was  the  breath  of  life,  for  me 
the  rapture  of  spring,  for  me  love  and  desire,  for  me  the 
secret  of  wisdom  and  power.”  * * * “ Emerson 

fills  me  with  courage  and  confidence.  He  has  read  and 
observed,  but  he  betrays  no  sign  of  toil.  He  presents 
familiar  facts,  but  he  places  them  in  new  lights  and  com- 
binations. From  every  object  the  lines  run  straight 
out,  connecting  it  with  the  central  point  of  life.  What 


220 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


I had  hardly  dared  to  think,  it  was  so  bold,  he  brings 
forth  as  quietly  as  if  it  was  the  most  familiar  common- 
place He  is  a perfect  swimmer  on  the  ocean  of  modern 
existence.  He  dreads  no  tempest,  for  he  is  sure  that 
calm  will  follow  it  ; he  does  not  hate,  contradict,  or  dis- 
pute, for  he  understands  men  and  loves  them.  I look  on 
with  wonder  to  see  how  the  hurly-burly  of  modern  life 
subsides,  and  the  elements  gently  betake  themselves  to 
their  allotted  places.  Had  I found  but  a single  passage 
in  his  writings  that  was  an  exception  to  this  rule,  I should 
begin  to  suspect  my  judgment,  and  should  say  no 
further  word  ; but  long  acquaintance  confirms  my 
opinion.  As  I think  of  this  man,  I have  understood 
the  devotion  of  pupils  who  would  share  any  fate  with 
their  master,  because  his  genius  banished  doubt  and 
imparted  life  to  all  things.” 

Grimm  tells  us  that  one  day  he  found  Emerson’s 
Essays  in  the  hands  of  a lady  to  whom  he  had  recom- 
mended them  without  effect.  She  had  made  a thousand 
excuses  ; had  declared  herself  quite  satisfied  with  Goethe, 
who  had  all  that  Emerson  could  possibly  have,. and  a 
great  deal  more  ; had  expressed  doubts  whether,  even  if 
Emerson  were  all  that  his  admirers  represented,  it  was 
worth  while  to  make  a study  of  him.  Besides,  she  had 
read  in  the  book,  and  found  only  commonplace  thoughts 
which  had  come  to  herself,  and  which  she  considered  not 
of  sufficient  importance  to  express.  So  Emerson  was 
neglected. 

“ On  this  occasion  she  made  him  the  subject  of  con- 
versation. She  had  felt  that  he  was  something  remark- 
able. She  had  come  upon  sentences,  many  times,  that 
opened  the  darkest  recesses  of  thought.  I listened 
quietly,  but  made  no  response.  Not  long  afterwards 


THE  SEER. 


221 


she  poured  out  to  me  her  astonished  admiration  in  such 
earnest  and  impassioned  strain,  that  she  made  me  feel  as 
if  I was  the  novice  and  she  the  apostle.” 

This . experience  was  repeated  again  and  again,  and 
Grimm  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  indifferent 
kindle,  the  adverse  turn,  the  objectors  yield.  The  praise 
was  not  universal  indeed ; there  were  stubborn  dissen- 
tients who  did  not  confess  the  charm,  and  declared  that 
the  enthusiasm  was  infatuation.  Such  remained  uncon- 
verted. It  was  discovered  that  Emerson  came  to  his 
own  only,  though  his  own  were  a large  and  increasing 
company. 

The  reasons  of  Grimm’s  admiration  have  been  suffi- 
ciently indicated  in  the  above  extracts.  They  are  good 
reasons,  but  they  are  not  the  best.  They  do  not 
touch  the  deeper  secret  of  power.  That  secret  lies  in 
the  writer’s  pure  and  perfect  idealism,  in  his  absolute 
and  perpetual  faith  in  thoughts,  his  supreme  confidence 
in  the  spiritual  laws.  He  lives  in  the  region  of  serene 
ideas  ; lives  there  all  the  day  and  all  the  year ; not  visiting 
the  mount  of  vision  occasionally,  but  setting  up  his 
tabernacle  there,  and  passing  the  night  among  the  stars 
that  he  may  be  up  and  dressed  for  the  eternal  sunrise.  To 
such  a spirit  there  is  no  night : “ the  darkness  shineth  as 
the  day;  the  darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alike.” 
There  are  no  cloudy  days.  Tyndall’s  expression  “ in 
his  case  Poetry,  with  the  joy  of  a bacchanal,  takes  her 
graver  brother  science  by  the  hand,  and  cheers  him  with 
immortal  laughter  ” — is  singularly  infelicitous  in  phrase, 
for  it  is  as  easy  to  associate  night  orgies  with  the  dawn 


0 


22  2 TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

as  the  bacchanalian  spirit  with  Emerson,  who  never 
riots  and  never  laughs,  but  is  radiant  with  a placid 
buoyancy  that  diffuses  itself  over  his  countenance  and 
person.  Mr.  Emerson’s  characteristic  trait  is  serenity. 
He  is  faithful  to  his  own  counsel,  “ Shun  the  neg- 
ative side.  Never  wrong  people  with  your  contritions,, 
nor  with  dismal  views  of  politics  or  society.  Never 
name  sickness  ; even  if  you  could  trust  yourself  on  that 
perilous  topic,  beware  of  unmuzzling  a valetudinarian 
who  will  soon  give  you  your  fill  of  it.”  He  seems  to  be 
perpetually  saying  “ Good  Morning.” 

This  is  not  wholly  a result  of  philosophy  ; it  is  rather 
a gift  of  nature.  He  is  the  descendant  of  eight  gener- 
ations of  Puritan  clergymen, — the  inheritor  of  their 
thoughtfulness  and  contemplation,  their  spirit  of  inward 
and  outward  communion.  The  dogmatism  fell  away  ; 
the  peaceful  fruits  of  discipline  remained,  and  flowered 
beautifully  in  his  richly  favored  spirit.  An  elder 
brother  William,  whom  it  was  a privilege  to  know, 
though  lacking  the  genius  of  Waldo,  was  a natural  ideal- 
ist and  wise  saint.  Charles,  another  brother,  who  died 
young  and  greatly  lamented  had  the  saintliness  and  the 
genius  both.  The  “ Dial”  contained  contributions  from 
this  young  man,  entitled  “Notes  from  the  Journal  of  a 
Scholar  ” that  strongly  suggest  the  genius  of  his  eminent 
brother  ; a few  passages  from  them  may  be  interesting 
as  throwing  light  on  the  secret  of  Emerson’s  inspiration. 

“This  afternoon  we  read  Shakspeare.  The  verse  so 
sank  into  me,  that  as  I toiled  my  way  home  under  the 
cloud  of  night,  with  the  gusty  music  of  the  storm  around 


THE  SEER. 


223 


and  overhead,  I doubted  that  it  was  all  a remembered 
scene  ; that  humanity  was  indeed  one,  a spirit  contin- 
ually reproduced,  accomplishing  a vast  orbit,  whilst 
individual  men  are  but  the  points  through  which  it 
passes. 

We  each  of  us  furnish  to  the  angel  who  stands  in  the 
sun,  a single  observation.  The  reason  why  Homer  is 
to  me  like  dewy  morning,  is  because  I too  lived  while 
Troy  was,  and  sailed  in  the  hollow  ships  of  the  Grecians 
to  sack  the  devoted  town.  The  rosy-fingered  dawn  as  it 
crimsoned  the  tops  of  Ida,  the  broad  sea  shore  covered 
with  tents,  the  Trojan  hosts  in  their  painted  armor,  and 
the  rushing  chariots  of  Diomed  and  Idomeneus, — all 
these  I too  saw  : my  ghost  animated  the  frame  of  some 
nameless  Argive  ; and  Shalcspeare,  in  King  John,  does 
but  recall  to  me  myself  in  the  dress  of  another  age,  the 
sport  of  new  accidents.  I who  am  Charles,  was  sometime 
Romeo.  In  Hamlet  I pondered  and  doubted.  We 
forget  what  we  have  been,  drugged  by  the  sleepy  bowl 
of  the  Present.  But  when  a lively  chord  in  the  soul  is 
struck,  when  the  windows  for  a moment  are  unbarred, 
the  long  and  varied  past  is  recovered.  We  recognize  it 
all ; we  are  no  more  brief,  ignoble  creatures  ; we  seize 
our  immortality  and  bind  together  the  related  parts  of 
our  secular  being.” 

From  the  second  record  of  thoughts  a passage  may 
be  taken,  so  precisely  like  paragraphs' in  the  essays  that 
they  might  have  proceeded  from  the  same  mind  : 


“ Let  us  not  vail  our  bonnets  to  circumstance.  If  we 
act  so,  because  we  are  so  ; if  we  sin  from  strong  bias  of 
temper  and  constitution,  at  least  we  have  in  ourselves 
the  measure  and  the  curb  of  our  aberration.  But  if 
they  who  are  around  us  sway  us  ; if  we  think  ourselves 
incapable  of  resisting  the  cords  by  which  fathers  and 
mothers  and  a host  of  unsuitable  expectations  and 


224 


TRAKTSCENDEN  TALISM. 


duties,  falsely  so  called,  seek  to  bind  us, — into  what  help- 
less discord  shall  we  not  fall.” 

“ I hate  whatever  is  imitative  in  states  of  mind  as 
well  as  in  action.  The  moment  I say  to  myself,  * I 
ought  to  feel  thus  and  so,’  life  loses  its  sweetness,  the 
,soul  her  vigor  and  truth.  I can  only  recover  my  gen- 
uine self  by  stopping  short,  refraining  from  every  effort 
\to  shape  my  thought  after  a form,  and  giving  it  bound- 
less freedom  and  horizon.  Then,  after  oscillation  more 
or  less  protracted,  as  the  mind  has  been  more  or  less 
forcibly  pushed  from  its  place,  I fall  again  into  my  orbit 
and  recognize  myself,  and  find  with  gratitude  that  some- 
thing there  is  in  the  spirit  which  changes  not,  neither  is 
weary,  but  ever  returns  into  itself,  and  partakes  of  the 
eternity  of  God.” 


Idealism  is  native  to  this  temperament,  the  proper  ex- 
pression of  its  feeling.  Emerson  was  preordained  an 
idealist;  he  is  one  of  the  eternal  men,  bearing  about 
him  the  atmosphere  of  immortal  youth.  He  is  now 
seventy-three  years  old,  having  been  born  in  Boston 
May  25th,  1803  ; but  his  last  volume,  “ Letters  and  So- 
cial Aims,”  shows  the  freshness  of  his  first  essays.  The 
opening  chapter,  “ Poetry  and  Imagination,”  has  the 
emphasis  and  soaring  confidence  of  undimmed  years  ; 
and  the  closing  one,  “ Immortality,”  sustains  an  un- 
wearied flight  among  the  agitations  of  this  most  hotly- 
debated  of  beliefs.  The  address  before  the  Phi  Beta 
Kappa  Society  at  Cambridge,  in  1867,  equals  in  moral 
grandeur  and  earnestness  of  appeal,  in  faithfulness  to 
ideas  and  trust  in  principles,  the  addresses  that  made  so 
famous  the  prime  of  his  career.  There  is  absolutely  no 
abatement  of  heart  or  hope  ; if  anything,  the  tone  is 


THE  SEER. 


225 


richer  and  more  assured  than  ever  it  was.  During  the 
season  of  his  popularity  as  a lyceum  lecturer,  the  neces- 
sity of  making  his  discourse  attractive  and  entertaining, 
brought  into  the  foreground  the  play  of  his  wit,  and 
forced  the  graver  qualities  of  his  mind  into  partial  con- 
cealment ; but  in  later  years,  in  the  solitude  of  his 
study,  the  undertone  of  high  purpose  is  heard  again,  in 
solemn  reverberations,  reminding  us  that  the  unseen 
realities  are  present  still  ; that  no  opening  into  the  eter- 
nal has  ever  been  closed. 

“ Shall  we  study  the  mathematics  of  the  sphere,” 
he  says  to  the  Cambridge  scholars,  “ and  not  its  causal 
essence  also?  Nature  is  a fable,  whose  moral  blazes 
through  it.  There  is  no  use  in  Copernicus,  if  the  ro- 
bust periodicity  of  the  solar  system  does  not  show  its 
equal  perfection  in  the  mental  sphere — the  periodicity, 
the  compensating  errors,  the  grand  reactions.  I shall 
never  believe  that  centrifugence  and  centripetence  bal- 
ance, unless  mind  heats  and  meliorates,  as  well  as  the 
surface  and  soil  of  the  globe.” 

“ On  this  power,  this  all-dissolving  unity,  the  empha- 
sis of  heaven  and  earth  is  laid.  Nature  is  brute,  but  as 
this  soul  quickens  it ; nature  always  the  effect,  mind  the 
flowing  cause.  Mind  carries  the  law ; history  is  the 
slow  and  atomic  unfolding.” 

“All  vigor  is  contagious,  and  when  we  see  creation, 
we  also  begin  to  create.  Depth  of  character,  height  of 
genius,  can  only  find  nourishment  in  this  soil.  The  mir- 
acles of  genius  always  rest  on  profound  convictions  which 
refuse  to  be  analyzed.  Enthusiasm  is  the  leaping  light- 
ning, not  to  be  measured  by  the  horse-power  of  the 
understanding.  Hope  never  spreads  her  golden  wings 
but  on  unfathomable  seas.” 

“ We  wish  to  put  the  ideal  rules  into  practice,  to  offer 
liberty  instead  of  chains,  and  see  whether  liberty  will 
IO* 


-’26 


TR.l  NS  CENDENTALISM. 


not  disclose  its  proper  checks  ; believing  that  a free 
press  will  prove  safer  than  the  censorship  ; to  ordain 
free  trade,  and  believe  that  it  will  not  bankrupt  us ; uni- 
versal suffrage,  believing  that  it  will  not  carry  us  to 
mobs  or  back  to  kings  again.” 

“ Every  inch  of  the  mountains  is  scarred  by  unim- 
aginable convulsions,  yet  the  new  day  is  purple  with  the 
bloom  of  youth  and  love.  Look  out  into  the  July 
night,  and  see  the  broad  belt  of  silver  flame  which 
flashes  up  the  half  of  heaven,  fresh  and  delicate  as  the 
bonfires  of  the  meadow  flies.  Yet  the  powers  of  num- 
bers cannot  compute  its  enormous  age — lasting  as  time 
and  space — embosomed  in  time  and  space.  And  time 
and  space,  what  are  they  ? Our  first  problems,  which 
we  ponder  all  our  lives  through,  and  leave  where  we 
found  them  ; whose  outrunning  immensity,  the  old 
Greeks  believed,  astonished  the  gods  themselves  ; of 
whose  dizzy  vastitudes,  all  the  worlds  of  God  are  a 
mere  dot  on  the  margin  ; impossible  to  deny,  impossi- 
ble to  believe.  Yet  the  moral  element  in  man’  counter- 
poises this  dismaying  immensity  and  bereaves  it  of 
terror.” 

Emerson  has  been  called  the  prince  of  Transcendental- 
ists.  It  is  nearer  the  truth  to  call  him  the  prince 
of  idealists.  A Transcendentalist,  in  the  technical 
sense  of  the  term,  it  cannot  be  clearly  affirmed  that  he 
whs.  Certainly  he  cannot  be  reckoned  a disciple  of 
Kant,  or  Jacobi,  or  Fichte,  or  Schelling.  He  calls  no 
man  master  ; he  receives  no  teaching  on  authority.  It 
is  not  certain  that  he  ever  made  a study  of  the  Tran- 
scendental philosophy  in  the  works  of  its  chief  expo- 
sition. In  his  lecture  on  “ The  Transcendentalist,”  de- 
livered in  1842,  he  conveys  the  impression  that  it  is 
idealism — active  and  protesting— an  excited  reaction 


THE  SEER . 


227 


against  formalism,  tradition,  and  conventionalism  in 
every  sphere.  As  such,  he  describes  it  with  great  vivid- 
ness and  beauty.  But  as  such  merely,  it  was  not 
apprehended  by  metaphysicians  like  James  Walker, 
theologians  like  Parker  or  preachers  like  William 
Henry  Channing. 

Emerson  does  not  claim  for  the  soul  a special  faculty^ 
like  faith  or  intuition,  by  which  truths  of  the  spiritual 
order  are  perceived,  as  objects  are  perceived  by  the 
senses.  He  contends  for  no  doctrines,  whether  of  God 
or  the  hereafter,  or  the  moral  law,  on  the  credit  of  such 
interior  revelation.  He  neither  dogmatizes  nor  defines. 
On  the  contrary,  his  chief  anxiety  seems  to  be  to  avoid 
committing  himself  to  opinions  ; to  keep  all  questions 
open  ; to  close  no  avenue  in  any  direction  to  the  free 
ingress  and  egress  of  the  mind.  He  gives  no  descrip- 
tion of  God  that  will  class  him  as  theist  or  pantheist ; 
no  definition  of  immortality  that  justifies  his  readers  in 
imputing  to  him  any  form  of  the  popular  belief  in  regard 
to  it.  Does  he  believe  in  personal  immortality  ? It  is 
impertinent  to  ask.  He  will  not  be  questioned;  not  be- 
cause he  doubts,  but  because  his  beliefs  are  so  rich,  va- 
rious and  many-sided,  that  he  is  unwilling,  by  laying 
emphasis  on  any  one,  to  do  an  apparent  injustice  to 
others.  He  will  be  held  to  no  definitions  ; he  will  be 
reduced  to  no  final  statements.  The  mind  must  hav^ 
free  range.  Critics  complain  of  the  tantalizing  fragmen- 
tariness of  his  writing  ; it  is  evidence  of  the  shyness  and 
modesty  of  his  mind.  He  dwells  in  principles,  and  will 
not  be  cabined  in  beliefs.  He  needs  the  full  expanse  of 


228 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


the  Eternal  Reason.  In  the  chapter  on  Worship — “ Con- 
duct of  Life,”  p.  288,  he  writes  thus  : 

“ Of  immortality,  the  soul,  when  well  employed,  is 
incurious  ; it  is  so  well,  that  it  is  sure  it  will  be  well  ; it 
asks  no  questions  of  the  Supreme  Power  ; ’tis  a higher 
thing  to  confide,  that  if  it  is  best  we  should  live , we 
shall  live — it  is  higher  to  have  this  conviction  than  to 
have  the  lease  of  indefinite  centuries,  and  millenniums 
and  aeons.  Higher  than  the  question  of  our  duration,  is 
the  question  of  our  deserving.  Immortality  will  come 
to  such  as  are  fit  for  it,  and  he  who  would  be  a great 
soul  in  future,  must  be  a great  soul  now.  It  is  a doc- 
trine too  great  to  rest  on  any  legend,  that  is,  on  any 
man’s  experience  but  odr  own.  It  must  be  proved,  if 
at  all,  from  our  own  activity  and  designs,  which  imply 
an  interminable  future  for  their  play.” 

The  discourse  on  Immortality,  which  closes  the  vol- 
ume, “ Letters  and  Social  Aims,”  moves  on  with  steady 
power,  towards  the  conclusion  of  belief.  Emerson 
really  seems  about  to  commit  himself ; he  argues  and 
affirms,  with  extraordinary  positiveness.  Of  skepticism, 
on  the  subject,  he  says  : 

“ I admit  that  you  shall  find  a good  deal  of  skepti- 
cism in  the  streets  and  hotels,  and  places  of  coarse 
amusement.  But  that  is  only  to  say  that  the  practical 
faculties  are  faster  developed  than  the  spiritual.  Where 
there  is  depravity  there  is  a slaughter-house  style  of 
thinking.  One  argument  of  future  life  is  the  recoil  of 
the  mind  in  such  company — our  pain  at  every  skeptical 
statement.” 

His  enumeration  of  “ the  few  simple  elements  of  the 
natural  faith,”  is  as  clear  and  cogent  as  was  ever  made. 


THE  SEER. 


229 


He  urges  the  delight  in  permanence  and  stability,  in  im- 
mense spaces  and  reaches  of  time.  “ Every  thing  is 
prospective,  and  man  is  to  live  hereafter.”  He  urges 
that : 

“ The  implanting  of  a desire  indicates  that  the  gratifi- 
cation of  that  desire  is  in  the  constitution  of  the  creature 
that  feels  it ; the  wish  for  food  ; the  wish  for  motion  ; 
the  wish  for  sleep,  for  society,  for  knowledge,  are  not 
random  whims,  but  grounded  in  the  structure  of  the 
creature,  and  meant  to  be  satisfied  by  food  ; by  motion  ; 
by  sleep  ; by  society  ; by  knowledge.  If  there  is  the 
desire  to  live,  and  in  larger  sphere,  with  more  know- 
ledge and  power,  it  is  because  life  and  knowledge  and 
power  are  good  for  us,  and  we  are  the  natural  deposi- 
taries of  these  gifts.” 

He  ranks  as  a hint  of  endless  being  the  novelty  which 
perpetually  attends  life  : 

“The  soul  does  not  age  with  the  body.”  “Every 
really  able  man,  in  whatever  direction  he  work — a man 
of  large  affairs — an  inventor,  a statesman,  an  orator,  a 
poet,  a painter — if  you  talk  sincerely  with  him,  consid- 
ers his  work,  however  much  admired,  as  far  short  of 
what  it  should  be.  What  is  this  ‘ Better,’  this  flying 
ideal  but  the  perpetual  promise  of  his  Creator  ?’2 

The  prophecy  of  the  intellect  is  enunciated  in  stirring 
tones : 

“ All  our  intellectual  action,  not  promises  but  bestows 
a feeling  of  absolute  existence.  We  are  taken  out  of 
time,  and  breathe  a purer  air.  I know  not  whence  we 
draw  the  assurance  of  prolonged  life  : of  a life  which 
shoots  that  gulf  we  call  death,  and  takes  hold  of  what  is 


23° 


TRANS  CENDE  NT  A L ISM. 


real  and  abiding,  by  so  many  claims  as  from  our  intel- 
lectual history.”  “As  soon  as  thought  is  exercised, 
this  belief  is  inevitable  ; as  soon  as  virtue  glows,  this 
belief  confirms  itself.  It  is  a kind  of  summary  or 
completion  of  man.” 

This  reads  veiy  much  like  encouragement  to  the  pop- 
ular persuasion,  yet  it  comes  far  short  of  it ; indeed,  does 
not,  at  any  point  touch  it.  The  immortality  is  claimed 
for  the  moral  and  spiritual  by  whom  thought  is  exercised, 
in  whom  virtue  glows — for  none  beside — and  for  these, 
the  individual  conscious  existence  is  not  asserted.  In 
the  midst  of  the  high  argument  occur  sentences  like 
these : 

“ I confess  that  everything  connected  with  our  person- 
ality fails.  Nature  never  spares  the  individual.  We  are 
always  balked  of  a complete  success.  No  prosperity  is 
promised  to  that.  We  have  our  indemnity  only  in  the 
success  of  that  to  which  we  belong.  That  is  immortal, 
and  we  only  through  that.”  “Future  state  is  an  illu- 
sion for  the  ever  present  state.  It  is  not  length  of  life, 
but  depth  of  life.  It  is  not  duration,  but  a taking  of  the 
soul  out  of  time,  as  all  high  action  of  the  mind  does  ; 
when  we  are  living  in  the  sentiments  we  ask  no  questions 
about  time.  The  spiritual  world  takes  place — that  which 
is  always  the  same.” 

Goethe  is  quoted  to  the  same  purpose  : 

“It  is  to  a thinking  being  quite  impossible  to  think 
himself  non-existent,  ceasing  to  think  and  live  ; so  far 
does  everyone  carry  in  himself  the  proof  of  immortality, 
and  quite  spontaneously.  But  so  soon  as  the  man  will 
be  objective  and  go  out  of  himself,  so  soon  as  he  dog- 
matically will  grasp  a personal  duration  to  bolster  up  in 


THE  SEER. 


231 


cockney  fashion  that  inward  assurance,  he  is  lost  in  con- 
tradiction.” 

It  is  thought  worth  while  to  dwell  so  long  on  this 
point,  because  it  furnishes  a perfect  illustration  of 
Emerson’s  intellectual  attitude  towards  beliefs,  its  entire 
sincerity,  disinterestedness  and  modesty.  The  serenity 
of  his  faith  makes  it  impossible  for  him  to  be  a contro- 
versialist. He  never  gave  a sweeter  or  more  convincing 
proof  of  this  than  in  the  sermon  he  preached  on  the 
Communion  Supper,  which  terminated  his  connection  ^ 
with  his  Boston  parish,  and  with  it  his  relations  to  the 
Christian  ministry,  after  a short  service  of  less  than  four 
years.  The  rite  in  question  was  held  sacred  by  his  sect, 
as  a personal  memorial  of  Jesus  perpetuated  according 
to  his  own  request.  To  neglect  it  was  still  regarded  as 
a reproach  ; to  dispute  its  authority  was  considered  con- 
tumacious ; to  declare  it  obsolete  and  useless,  an  impedi- 
ment to  spiritual  progress,  a hindrance  to  Christian 
growth,  was  to  excite  violent  animosities,  and  call  down 
angry  rebuke.  Yet  this  is  what  Mr.  Emerson  deliber- 
ately did.  That  the  question  of  retaining  a minister  who 
declined  to  bless  and  distribute  the  bread  and  wine,  was 
debated  at  all,  was  proof  of  the  extraordinary  hold  he 
had  on  his  people.  Through  the  crisis  he  remained  un- 
ruffled, calm  and  gracious  as  in  the  sunniest  days.  On 
the  evening  when  the  church  were  considering  his  final 
proposition,  with  such  result  as  he  clearly  foresaw,  he 
sat  with  a brother  clergyman  talking  pleasantly  on  liter- 
ature and  general  topics,  never  letting  fall  a hint  of  the 


232 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


impending  judgment,  until,  as  he  rose  to  leave,  he  said 
gently,  “ this  is  probably  the  last  time  we  shall  meet  as 
brethren  in  the  same  calling,”  added  a few  words  in  ex- 
planation of  the  remark,  and  passed  into  the  street. 

The  sermon  alluded  to  was  a model  of  lucid,  orderly 
and  simple  statement,  so  plain  that  the  young  men  and 
women  of  the  congregation  could  understand  it ; so  deep 
and  elevated  that  experienced  believers  were  fed  ; 
learned  enough,  without  a taint  of  pedantry  ; bold,  with- 
out a suggestion  of  audacity  ; reasonable,  without  criti- 
cal sharpness  or  affectation  of  mental  superiority  ; rising 
into  natural  eloquence  in  passages  that  contained  pure 
thought,  but  for  the  most  part  flowing  in  unartificial  sen- 
tences that  exactly  expressed  the  speaker’s  meaning  and 
no  more.  By  Mr.  Emerson’s  kind  permission,  the  dis- 
course is  printed  in  the  last  chapter  of  this  volume.  The 
farewell  letter  to  the  parish  is  also  printed  here. 


Boston,  22d  December,  1832. 

To  the  Second  Church  and  Society : 

CHRISTIAN  Friends  : — Since  the  formal  resignation  of 
my  official  relation  to  you  in  my  communication  to  the 
proprietors  in  September,  I had  waited  anxiously  for  an 
opportunity  of  addressing  you  once  more  from  the  pul- 
pit, though  it  were  only  to  say,  let  us  part  in  peace  and 
in  the  love  of  God.  The  state  of  my  health  has  pre- 
vented, and  continues  to  prevent  me  from  so  doing. 
I am  now  advised  to  seek  the  benefit  of  a sea  voyage. 
I cannot  go  away  without  a brief  parting  word  to  friends 


THE  SEER.  233 

who  have  shown  me  so  much  kindness,  and  to  whom  I 
have  felt  myself  so  dearly  bound. 

Our  connection  has  been  very  short ; I had  only  begun 
my  work.  It  is  now  brought  to  a sudden  close  ; and  I 
look  back,  I own,  with  a painful  sense  of  weakness,  to 
the  little  service  I have  been  able  to  render,  after  so 
much  expectation  on  my  part, — to  the  checkered  space 
of  time,  which  domestic  affliction  and  personal  infirm- 
ities have  made  yet  shorter  and  more  unprofitable. 

As  long  as  he  remains  in  the  same  place,  every  man 
flatters  himself,  however  keen  may  be  his  sense  of  his 
failures  and  unworthiness,  that  he  shall  yet  accomplish 
much  ; that  the  future  shall  make  amends  for  the  past  ; 
that  his  very  errors  shall  prove  his  instructors,— and 
what  limit  is  there  to  hope  ? But  a separation  from  our 
place,  the  close  of  a particular  career  of  duty,  shuts  the 
book,  bereaves  us  of  this  hope,  and  leaves  us  only  to 
lament  how  little  has  been  done. 

Yet,  my  friends,  our  faith  in  the  great  truths  of  the 
New  Testament  makes  the  change  of  places  and  circum- 
stances of  less  account  to  us,  by  fixing  our  attention 
upon  that  which  is  unalterable.  I find  great  consolation 
in  the  thought  that  the  resignation  of  my  present  re- 
lations makes  so  little  change  to  myself.  I am  no  longer 
your  minister,  but  am  not  the  less  engaged,  I hope,  to 
the  love  and  service  of  the  same  eternal  cause,  the  ad- 
vancement, namely,  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  the 
hearts  of  men.  The  tie  that  binds  each  of  us  to  that 
cause  is  not  created  by  our  connexion,  and  cannot  be 
hurt  by  our  separation.  To  me,  as  one  disciple,  is  the 


234 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


ministry  of  truth,  as  far  as  I can  discern  and  declare  it, 
committed  ; and  I desire  to  live  nowhere  and  no  longer 
than  that  grace  of  God  is  imparted  to  me — the  liberty 
to  seek  and  the  liberty  to  utter  it. 

And,  more  than  this,  I rejoice  to  believe  that  my 
ceasing  to  exercise  the  pastoral  office  among  you  does 
not  make  any  real  change  in  our  spiritual  relation  to 
each  other.  Whatever  is  most  desirable  and  excellent 
therein,  remains  to  us.  For,  truly  speaking,  who- 
ever provokes  me  to  a good  act  or  thought,  has  given 
me  a pledge  of  his  fidelity  to  virtue, — he  has  come 
under  bonds  to  adhere  to  that  cause  to  which  we  are 
jointly  attached.  And  so  I say  to  all  you  who  have 
been  my  counsellors  and  cooperators  in  our  Christian 
walk,  that  I am  wont  to  see  in  your  faces  the  seals  and 
certificates  of  our  mutual  obligations.  If  we  have  con- 
spired from  week  to  week  in  the  sympathy  and  expres- 
sion of  devout  sentiments  ; if  we  have  received  together 
the  unspeakable  gift  of  God’s  truth  ; if  we  have  studied 
together  the  sense  of  any  divine  word  ; or  striven  together 
in  any  charity  ; or  conferred  together  for  the  relief  or  in- 
struction of  any  brother  ; if  together  we  have  laid  down 
the  dead  in  a pious  hope  ; or  held  up  the  babe  into  the 
baptism  of  Christianity  ; above  all,  if  we  have  shared 
in  any  habitual  acknowledgment  of  that  benignant  God, 
whose  omnipresence  raises  and  glorifies  the  meanest 
offices  and  the  lowest  ability,  and  opens  heaven  in  every 
heart  that  worships  him, — then  indeed  are  we  united, 
we  are  mutually  debtors  to  each  other  of  faith  and  hope, 
engaged  to  persist  and  confirm  each  other’s  hearts  in 


THE  SEER. 


235 


obedience  to  the  Gospel.  We  shall  not  feel  that  the 
nominal  changes  and  little  separations  of  this  world  can 
release  us  from  the  strong  cordage  of  this  spiritual  bond. 
And  I entreat  you  to  consider  how  truly  blessed  will 
have  been  our  connexion,  if  in  this  manner,  the  memory 
of  it  shall  serve  to  bind  each  one  of  us  more  strictly  to 
the  practice  of  our  several  duties. 

It  remains  to  thank  you  for  the  goodness  you  have 
uniformly  extended  towards  me,  for  your  forgiveness  of 
many  defects,  and  your  patient  and  even  partial  accept- 
ance of  every  endeavor  to  serve  you  ; for  the  liberal 
provision  you  have  ever  made  for  my  maintenance  ; and 
for  a thousand  acts  of  kindness  which  have  comforted 
and  assisted  me. 

To  the  proprietors  I owe  a particular  acknowledg- 
ment, for  their  recent  generous  vote  for  the  continuance 
of  my  salary,  and  hereby  ask  their  leave  to  relinquish 
this  emolument  at  the  end  of  the  present  month. 

And  now,  brethren  and  friends,  having  returned  into 
your  hands  the  trust  you  have  honored  me  with, — the 
charge  of  public  and  private  instruction  in  this  religious 
society— I pray  God,  that,  whatever  seed  of  truth  and  vir- 
tue we  have  sown  and  watered  together,  may  bear  fruit  un- 
to eternal  life.  I commend  you  to  the  Divine  Providence. 
May  He  grant  you,  in  your  ancient  sanctuary  the  service 
of  able  and  faithful  teachers.  May  He  multiply  to  your 
families  and  to  your  persons,  every  genuine  blessing  ; 
and  whatever  discipline  may  be  appointed  to  you  in  this 
world,  may  the  blessed  hope  of  the  resurrection,  which 
He  has  planted  in  the  constitution  of  the  human  soul, 


2 36 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


and  confirmed  and  manifested  by  Jesus  Christ,  be  made 
good  to  you  beyond  the  grave.  In  this  faith  and  hope 
I bid  you  farewell. 

Your  affectionate  servant, 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

Mr.  Emerson’s  place  is  among  poetic,  not  among  phil- 
osophic minds.  He  belongs  to  the  order  of  imaginative 
men.  The  imagination  is  his  organ.  His  reading,  which 
is  very  extensive  in  range,  has  covered  this  department 
more  completely  than  any.  He  is  at  home  with  the 
seers,  Swedenborg,  Plotinus,  Plato,  the  books  of  the 
Hindus,  the  Greek  mythology,  Plutarch,  Chaucer, 
Shakspeare,  Henry  More,  Hafiz  ; the  books  called 
sacred  by  the  religious  world  ; “ books  of  natural  science, 
especially  those  written  by  the  ancients, — geography, 
botany,  agriculture,  explorations  of  the  sea,  of  meteors, 
of  astronomy he  recommends  “the  deep  books.” 
Montaigne  has  been  a favorite  author  on  account  of  his 
sincerity.  He  thinks  Hindu  books  the  best  gymnastics 
for  the  mind. 

His  estimate  of  the  function  of  the  poetic  faculty  is 
given  in  his  latest  volume. 

“ Poetry  is  the  perpetual  endeavor  to  express  the  spirit 
of  the  thing;  to  pass  the  brute  body,  and  search  the 
life  and  reason  which  causes  it  to  exist ; to  see  that  the 
object  is  always  flowing  away,  whilst  the  spirit  or  necessity 
which  causes  it  subsists.”  “ The  poet  contemplates  the 
central  identity  ; sees  it  undulate  and  roll  this  way  and 
that,  with  divine  flowings,  through  remotest  things  ; and 


THE  SEER. 


237 


following  it,  can  detect  essential  resemblances  in  natures 
never  before  compared.”  “ Poetry  is  faith.  To  the 
poet  the  world  is  virgin  soil ; all  is  practicable  ; the  men 
are  ready  for  virtue  ; it  is  always  time  to  do  right.  He 
is  the  true  recommencer,  or  Adam  in  the  garden  again.” 
“ He  is  the  healthy,  the  wise,  the  fundamental,  the  manly 
man,  seer  of  the  secret ; against  all  the  appearance,  he 
sees  and  reports  the  truth,  namely,  that  the  soul  gener- 
ates matter.  And  poetry  is  the  only  verity,  the  expres- 
sion of  a sound  mind,  speaking  after  the  ideal,  not  after 
the  apparent.”  “ Whilst  common  sense  looks  at  things 
or  visible  nature  as  real  and  final  facts,  poetry,  or  the 
imagination  which  dictates  it,  is  a second  sight,  looking 
through  these  and  using  them  as  types  or  words  for 
thoughts  which  they  signify.” 

By  the  poet,  Emerson  is  careful  to  say  that  he  means 
the  potential  or  ideal  man,  not  found  now  in  any  one 
person. 

The  upshot  of  it  all  is  that  soul  is  supreme.  Not  the 
soul,  as  if  that  term  designated  a constituent  part  of  each 
man’s  nature. 

“ All  goes  to  show  that  the  soul  is  not  an  organ,  but 
animates  and  exercises  all  the  organs  ; is  not  a function, 
like  the  power  of  memory,  of  calculation,  of  comparison, 
but  uses  these  as  hands  and  feet ; is  not  a faculty,  but  a 
light;  is  not  the  intellect  or  the  will,  but  the  master  of 
the  intellect  and  the  will  ; is  the  background  of  our  being, 
in  which  they  lie — an  immensity  not  possessed,  and  that 
cannot  be  possessed.  From  within  or  from  behind,  a light 
shines  through  us  upon  things,  and  makes  us  aware  that 
we  are  nothing,  but  the  light  is  all.  A man  is  the  facade 
of  a temple,  wherein  all  wisdom  and  all  good  abide.” 

We  stand  now  at  the  centre  of  Emerson’s  philosophy. 
His  thoughts  are  few  and  pregnant ; capable  of  infinite 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


238 

expansion,  illustration  and  application.  They  crop  out 
on  almost  every  page  of  his  characteristic  writings  ; are 
iterated  and  reiterated  in  every  form  of  speech ; and  put 
into  gems  of  expression  that  may  be  worn  on  any  part 
of  the  person.  His  prose  and  his  poetry  are  aglow  with 
them.  They  make  his  essays  oracular,  and  his  verse 
prophetic.  By  virtue  of  them  his  best  books  belong  to 
the  sacred  literature  of  the  race  ; by  virtue  of  them,  but 
for  the  lack  of  artistic  finish  of  rhythm  and  rhyme,  he 
would  be  the  chief  of  American  poets. 

J 1 ' The  first  article  in  Mr.  Emerson’s  faith  is  the  primacy 
of  Mind.  That  Mi.ijd  is  supreme,  eternal,  absolute,  one, 
manifold,  subtle,  living,  immanent  in  all  things,  perma- 
nent, flowing,  self-manifesting  ; that  the  universe  is  the 
result  of  mind,  that  nature  is  the  symbol  of  mind  ; that 
finite  minds  live  and  act  through  concurrence  with  infinite 
^mind.  This  idea  recurs  with  such  frequency  that,  but 
for  Emerson’s  wealth  of  observation,  reading,  wit,  mental 
variety  and  buoyancy,  his  talent  for  illustration,  gift  at 
describing  details,  it  would  weary  the  reader.  As  it  is, 
we  delight  to  follow  the  guide  through  the  labyrinth  of 
his  expositions,  and  gaze  on  the  wonderful  phantasma- 
goria that  he  exhibits. 

His  second  article  is  the  connection  of  the  individual 
intellect  with  the  primal  mind,,  and  its  ability  to  draw 
thence  wisdom,  will,  virtue,  prudence,  heroism,  all  ac- 
tive and  passive  qualities.  This  belief,  as  being  the 
more  practical,  has  even  more  exuberant  expression 
than  the  other  : 


THE  SEER. 


239 


“ The  relations  of  the  soul  to  the  divine  spirit  are  so 
pure  that  it  is  profane  to  seek  to  interpose  helps. 
Whenever  a mind  is  simple,  and  receives  a divine  wis- 
dom, all  things  pass  away — means,  teachers,  texts,  tem- 
ples fall  ; it  lives  now,  and  absorbs  past  and  future  into 
the  present  hour.” 

“ Let  man  learn  the  revelation  of  all  nature  and  all 
thought  to  his  heart  ; this,  namely  : that  the  highest 
dwells  with  him  ; that  the  sources  of  nature  are  in  his 
own  mind,  if  the  sentiment  of  duty  is  there.” 

“ Ineffable  is  the  uniorTof  man  and  God  in  every  act 
of  the  soul  ; the  simplest  person  who,  in  his  integrity, 
worships  God,  becomes  God ; yet  for  ever  and  ever 
the  influx  of  this  better  and  universal  self  is  new  and 
unsearchable.” 

“ We  are  wiser  than  we  know.  If  we  will  not  inter- 
fere with  our  thought,  but  will  act  entirely,  or  see  how 
the  thing  stands  in  God,  we  know  the  particular  thing, 
and  every  thing,  and  every  man.  For  the  Maker  of  all 
things  and  all  persons  stands  behind  us,  and  casts  His 
dread  omniscience  through  us  over  things.” 

“ The  only  mode  of  obtaining  an  answer  to  the  ques- 
tions of  the  senses,  is  to  forego  all  low  curiosity,  and, 
accepting  the  tide  of  being  which  floats  us  into  the 
secret  of  nature,  work  and  live,  work  and  live,  and  all 
unawares  the  advancing  soul  has  built  and  forged  for 
itself  a new  condition,  and  the  question  and  the  answer 
are  one.” 

“ We  are  all  discerners  of  spirits.  That  diagnosis  lies 
aloft  in  our  life  or  unconscious  power.” 

“ We  live  in  succession,  in  division,  in  parts,  in  parti- 
cles. Meantime,  within  man  is  the  soul  of  the  whole  ; 
the  wise  silence  ; the  universal  beauty,  to  which  every 
part  and  particle  is  equally  related  ; the  eternal  One. 
And  this  deep  power  in  which  we  exist,  and  whose  be- 
atitude is  all  accessible  to  us,  is  not  only  self-sufficing 
and  perfect  in  every  hour,  but  the  act  of  seeing  and  the 
thing  seen,  the  seer  and  the  spectacle,  the  subject  and 
the  object,  are  one.” 


240 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


“ All  the  forms  are  fugitive, 

But  the  substances  survive  ; 

Ever  fresh  the  broad  creation — 

A divine  improvisation, 

From  the  heart  of  God  proceeds, 

A single  will,  a million  deeds. 

Once  slept  the  world  an  egg  of  stone, 

And  pulse  and  sound,  and  light  was  none  ; 
And  God  said  ‘ Throb,’  and  there  was  motion, 
And  the  vast  mass  became  vast  ocean. 
Onward  and  on,  the  eternal  Pan, 

Who  layeth  the  world’s  incessant  plan, 
Halteth  never  in  one  shape, 

But  forever  doth  escape, 

Like  wave  or  flame,  into  new  forms 
Of  gem  and  air,  of  plants  and  worms. 

I that  to-day  am  a pine, 

Yesterday  was  a bundle  of  grass. 

He  is  free  and  libertine, 

Pouring  of  his  power,  the  wine 
To  every  age — to  every  race  ; 

Unto  every  race  and  age 
He  emptieth  the  beverage  ; 

Unto  each  and  unto  all — 

Maker  and  original. 

The  world  is  the  ring  of  his  spells, 

And  the  play  of  his  miracles. 

As  he  giveth  to  all  to  drink, 

Thus  or  thus  they  are,  and  think. 

He  giveth  little,  or  giveth  much, 

To  make  them  several,  or  such. 

With  one  drop  sheds  form  and  feature  ; 

With  the  second  a special  nature  ; 

The  third  adds  heat’s  indulgent  spark  ; 

The  fourth  gives  light,  which  eats  the  dark  ; 


THE  SEER. 


241 


In  the  fifth  drop  himself  he  flings, 

And  conscious  Law  is  King  of  kings. 

Pleaseth  him,  the  Eternal  Child 
To  play  his  sweet  will — glad  and  wild. 

As  the  bee  through  the  garden  ranges, 

From  world  to  world  the  godhead  changes  ; 

As  the  sheep  go  feeding  in  the  waste, 

From  form  to  form  he  maketh  haste. 

. ...  -''This  vault,  which  glows  immense  with  light, 

' _Js  the  inn,  where  he  lodges  for  a night. 

What  recks  such  Traveller,  if  the  bowers 
Which  bloom  and  fade,  like  meadow  flowers — 
A bunch  of  fragrant  lilies  be, 

Or  the  stars  of  eternity  ? 

Alike  to  him,  the  better,  the  worse — 

The  glowing  angel,  the  outcast  corse. 

Thou  meetest  him  by  centuries, 

And  lo  ! he  passes  like  the  breeze  ; 

Thou  seek’st  in  globe  and  galaxy, 

He  hides  in  pure  transparency  ; 

Thou  askest  in  fountains,  and  in  fires, 

He  is  the  essence  that  inquires. 

He  is  the  axis  of  the  star ; 

He  is  the  sparkle  of  the  spar ; 

He  is  the  heart  of  every  creature  ; 

He  is  the  meaning  of  each  feature  ; 

' And  his  mind  is  the  sky, 

^Than  all  it  holds,  more  deep,  more  high.” 


Mr.  Emerson  is  never  concerned  to  defend  himself 
against  the  charge  of  pantheism,  or  the  warning  to  be- 
ware lest  he  unsettle  the  foundations  of  morality,  anni- 
hilate the  freedom  of  the  will,  abolish  the  distinction 
between  right  and  wrong,  and  reduce  personality  to  a 
II 


242 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


mask.  He  makes  no  apology  ; he  never  explains  ; he 
trusts  to  affirmation,  pure  and  simple.  By  dint  of  af- 
firming all  the  facts  that  appear,  he  makes  his  contribu- 
tion to  the  problem  of  solving  all,  and  by  laying  inces- 
sant emphasis  on  the  cardinal  virtues  of  humility,  fideli- 
ty, sincerity,  obedience,  aspiration,  simple  acquiescence 
in  the  will  of  the  supreme  power,  he  not  only  guards 
himself  'against  vulgar  misconception,  but  sustains  the 
mind  at  an  elevation  that  makes  the  highest  hill-tops  of 
the  accepted  morality  disappear  in  the  dead  level  of  the 
plain. 

The  primary  thoughts  of  his  philosophy,  if  such  it 
may  be  termed,  Emerson  takes  with  him  wherever  he 
goes.  Does  he  study  history,  history  is  the  autobio- 
graphy of  the  Eternal  Mind.  The  key  is  in  the  sen- 
tence that  begins  the  Essay  on  History  : 


“ There  is  one  mind  common  to  all  individual  men. 
Every  man  is  an  inlet  to  the  same,  and  to  all  of  the  same. 
He  that  is  once  admitted  to  the  right  of  reason  is  made 
a freeman  of  the  whole  estate.  What  Plato  has  thought, 
he  may  think  ; what  a saint  has  felt,  he  may  feel  ; what 
at  any  time  has  befallen  any  man,  he  can  understand. 
Who  hath  access  to  this  universal  mind,  is  a party  to  all 
that  is  or  can  be  done,  for  that  is  the  only  and  sovereign 
agent.”  “ This  human  mind  wrote  history,  and  this 
must  read  it.  The  sphinx  must  solve  her  own  riddle. 
If  the  whole  of  history  is  in  one  man,  it  is  all  to  be  ex- 
plained from  individual  experience.  There  is  a relation 
between  the  hours  of  our  life  and  the  centuries  of  time. 
Of  the  universal  mind  each  individual  man  is  one  more 
incarnation.  All  its  properties  consist  in  him.  Each 
new  fact  in  his  private  experience  flashes  a light  on  what 


THE  SEER. 


243 


great  bodies  of  men  have  done,  and  the  crises  of  his  life 
refer  to  national  crises.”  In  the  “ Progress  of  Culture  ” 
the  same  sentiment  recurs. 

“What  is  the  use  of  telegraphy?  What  of  news- 
papers ? To  know  in  each  social  crisis  how  men  feel  in 
Kansas,  in  California,  the  wise  man  waits  for  no  mails, 
reads  no  telegrams.  He  asks  his  own  heart.  If  they 
are  made  as  he  is,  if  they  breathe  the  same  air,  eat  of 
the  same  wheat,  have  wives  and  children,  he  knows  that 
their  joy  or  resentment  rises  to  the  same  point  as  his 
own.  The  inviolate  soul  is  in  perpetual  telegraphic  com- 
munication with  the  Source  of  events,  has  earlier  infor- 
mation, a private  despatch,  which  relieves  him  of  the 
terror  which  presses  on  the  rest  of  the  community.” 

“ We  are  always  coming  up  with  the  emphatic  facts  of 
history  in  our  private  experience,  and  verifying  them 
here.  All  history  becomes  subjective  ; in  other  words, 
there  is  properly  no  history  ; only  biography.  Every 
mind  must  know  the  whole  lesson  for  itself, — must  go 
over  the  whole  ground.  What  it  does  not  see,  what  it 
does  not  live,  it  does  not  know.” 


In  the  appreciation  of  scientific  facts  the  same  method 
avails.  Tyndall  commends  Emerson  as  “ a poet  and  a 
profoundly  religious  man,  who  is  really  and  entirely  un- 
daunted by  the  discoveries  of  science,  past,  present,  or 
prospective.”  The  praise  seems  to  imply  some  miscon- 
ception of  Emerson’s  position.  Tyndall  intimates  that 
Emerson  is  undaunted  where  others  fear.  But  this  is 
not  so.  No  man  deserves  commendation  for  not  dread- 
ing precisely  what  he  desires.  Emerson,  by  his  princi- 
ple, is  delivered  from  the  alarm  of  the  religious  man 
who  has  a creed  to  defend,  and  from  the  defiance  of  the 
scientific  man  who  has  creeds  to  assail.  To  him  Nature  is 


244 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


but  the  symbol  of  spirit ; this  the  scientific  men,  by  their 
discoveries,  are  continually  proving.  The  faster  they 
disclose  facts,  and  the  more  accurately,  the  more  bril- 
liantly do  they  illustrate  the  lessons  of  the  perfect  wis- 
dom. For  the  scientific  method  he  professes  no  deep 
respect  ; for  the  scientific  assumptions  none  whatever. 
He  begins  at  the  opposite  end.  They  start  with  matter, 
he  starts  with  mind.  They  feel  their  way  up,  he  feels 
his  way  down.  They  observe  phenomena,  he  watches 
thoughts.  They  fancy  themselves  to  be  gradually  push- 
ing away  as  illusions  the  so-called  entities  of  the  soul ; he 
dwells  serenely  with  those  entities,  rejoicing  to  see 
men  paying  jubilant  honor  to  what  they  mean  to 
overturn.  The  facts  they  bring  in,  chemical,  physiologi- 
cal, biological,  Huxley’s  facts,  Helmholtz’s’,  Darwin’s, 
Tyndall’s,  Spencer’s,  the  ugly  facts  which  the  theo- 
logians dispute,  he  accepts  with  eager  hands,  and  uses 
to  demonstrate  the  force  and  harmony  of  the  spiritual 
laws. 

“ Science,”  he  says,  “ was  false  by  being  unpoetical. 
It  assumed  to  explain  a reptile  or  mollusk,  and  isolated 
it, — -which  is  hunting  for  life  in  graveyards  ; reptile  or 
mollusk,  or  man  or  angel,  only  exists  in  system,  in  rela- 
tion. The  metaphysician,  the  poet,  only  sees  each 
animal  form  as  an  inevitable  step  in  the  path  of  the 
creating  mind.”  “ The  savans  are  chatty  and  vain  ; but 
hold  them  hard  to  principle  and  definition,  and  they  be- 
come mute  and  near-sighted.  What  is  motion  ? What 
is  beauty  ? What  is  matter  ? What  is  life  ? What  is 
force  ? Push  them  hard  and  they  will  not  be  loquacious. 
They  will  come  to  Plato,  Proclus  and  Swedenborg. 
The  invisible  and  imponderable  is  the  sole  fact.”  “ The 


THE  SEER. 


245 


atomic  theory  is  only  an  interior  process  prodiLced,  as 
geometers  say,  or  the  effect  of  a foregone  metaphysical 
theory.  Swedenborg  saw  gravity  to  be  only  an  exter- 
nal of  the  irresistible  attractions  of  affection  arid  faith. 
Mountains  and  oceans  we  think  we  understand.  Yes, 
so  long  as  they  are  contented  to  be  such,  and  are  safe 
with  the  geologist  ; but  when  they  are  melted  in  Prome- 
thean alembics  and  come  out  men  ; and  then  melted  again, 
come  out  woods,  without  any  abatement,  but  with  an 
exaltation  of  power  ! ” 


Emerson  is  faithful  in  applying  his  principle  to  social 
institutions  and  laws.  His  faith  in  ideal  justice  and  love 
never  blenches.  In  every  emergency,  political,  civil, 
national,  he  has  been  true  to  his  regenerating  idea  ; true 
as  a recreator  from  the  inside,  rather  than  as  a reformer 
of  the  outside  world.  A profounder,  more  consistent, 
more  uncompromising  radical  does  not  exist ; a less 
heated,  ruffled  or  anxious  one  cannot  be  thought  of. 
He  scarcely  ever  suggested  measures,  rarely  joined  in 
public  assemblies,  did  not  feel  at  home  among  politicians 
or  agitators.  But  his  thought  never  swerved  from  the 
line  of  perfect  rectitude,  his  sympathies  were  always 
human.  His  heart  was  in  the  anti-slavery  movement 
from  the  beginning.  He  was  abroad  in  its  stormy  days, 
his  steadfast  bearing  and  cheerful  countenance  carrying 
hope  whenever  he  appeared.  His  name  stood  with  that 
of  his  wife  in  the  list  of  signers  to  the  call  for  the 
first  National  Woman’s  Rights  Convention,  in  1850. 
The  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  the  American 
Society  of  Arts  and  Sciences  have  honored  themselves 
by  electing  him  a member ; the  Alumni  of  Harvard 


246 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


University  joyfully  made  him  an  overseer;  he  was  pro- 
posed as  rector  of  the  University  of  Glasgow.  Such 
confidence  did  the  great  idealist  inspire,  that  he  has  been 
even  called  to  the  duty  of  Examiner  at  West  Point  Mili- 
tary Academy.  His  name  is  spoken  in  no  company 
with  other  than  respect,  and  his  influence  is  felt  in  places 
where  it  is  not  acknowledged,  and  would  be  officially 
disavowed. 

Mr.  A.  B.  Alcott,  a townsman  of  Mr.  Emerson,  and 
a close  acquaintance,  in  his  “ Concord  Days  ” says  pleas- 
ant things  of  his  friend,  just  and  discerning  things,  as 
well  as  pleasant. 

“ Consider,”  he  says,  “how  largely  our  letters  have 
been  enriched  by  his  contributions.  Consider,  too,  the 
change  his  views  have  wrought  in  our  methods  of  think- 
ing ; how  he  has  won  over  the  bigot,  the  unbeliever,  at 
least  to  tolerance  and  moderation,  if  not  acknowledg- 
ment, by  his  circumspection  and  candor  of  statement.” 
“ A poet,  speaking  to  individuals  as  few  others  can 
speak,  and  to  persons  in  their  privileged  moments,  he 
is  heard  as  none  others  are.  ’Tis  every  thing  to  have  a 
true  believer  in  the  world,  dealing  with  men  and  mat- 
ters as  if  they  were  divine  in  idea  and  real  in  fact,  meet- 
ing persons  and  events  at  a glance,  directly,  not  at  a 
millionth  remove, and  so  passing  fair  and  fresh  into  life  and 
literature.”  “ His  compositions  affect  us,  not  as  logic 
linked  in  syllogisms,  but  as  voluntaries  rather,  as  pre- 
ludes, in  which  one  is  not  tied  to  any  design  of  air,  but 
may  vary  his  key  or  not  at  pleasure,  as  if  improvised 
without  any  particular  scope  of  argument ; each  period, 
paragraph,  being  a perfect  note  in  itself,  however  it  may 
chance  chime  with  its  accompaniments  in  the  piece,  as  a 
waltz  of  wandering  stars,  a dance  of  Hesperus  with 
Orion.” 


THE  SEER. 


247 


After  this,  one  is  surprised  to  hear  Mr.  Alcott  say,  “ I 
know  of  but  one  subtraction  from  the  pleasure  the  read- 
ing of  his  books — shall  I say  his  conversation  ? — gives 
me  ; his  pains  to  be  impersonal  or  discreet,  as  if  he  feared 
any  the  least  intrusion  of  himself  were  an  offence  offered 
to  self-respect,  the  courtesy  due  to  intercourse  and 
authorship.”  To  others  this  exquisite  reserve,  this  deli- 
cate withdrawal  behind  his  thought,  has  seemed  not  only 
one  of  Emerson’s  peculiar  charms,  but  one  of  his  most 
subtle  powers.  Personal  magnetism  is  very  delightful 
for  the  moment.  The  exhibition  of  attractive  personal 
traits  is  interesting  in  the  lecture  room  ; sometimes  in  the 
parlor.  The  public,  large  or  small,  enjoy  confidences. 
But  in  an  age  of  personalities,  voluntary  and  involuntary, 
the  man  who  keeps  his  individual  affairs  in  the  back- 
ground, tells  nothing  of  his  private  history,  holds  in  his 
own  breast  his  petty  concerns  and  opinions,  and  lets 
thoughts  flow  through  him,  as  light  streams  through 
plate  glass,  is  more  than  attractive — is  noble,  is  venerable. 
To  his  impersonality  in  his  books  and  addresses,  Emer- 
son owes  perhaps  a large  measure  of  his  extraordinary 
influence.  You  may  search  his  volumes  in  vain  for  a 
trace  of  egotism.  In  the  lecture  room,  he  seems  to  be 
so  completely  under  the  spell  of  his  idea,  so  wholly  ab- 
stracted from  his  audience,  that  he  is  as  one  who  waits 
for  the  thoughts  to  come,  and  drops  them  out  one  by 
one,  in  a species  of  soliloquy  or  trance.  He  is  a bodiless 
idea.  When  he  speaks  or  writes,  the  power  is  that  of 
pure  mind.  The  incidental,  accidental,  occasional,  does 
not  intrude.  No  abatement  on  the  score  of  personal 


V 


248  • TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

antipathy  needs  to  be  made.  The  thought  is  allowed  to 
present  and  commend  itself.  Hence,  when  so  many 
thoughts  are  forgotten,  buried  beneath  affectation  and 
verbiage,  his  gain  in  brilliancy'  and  value  as  time  goes 
on ; and  in  an  age  of  ephemeral  literature  his  books  find 
new  readers,  his  mind  exerts  wider  sway.  That  his 
philosophy  can  be  recommended  as  a sound  rule  to  live 
by  for  ordinary  practitioners  may  be  questioned.  It  is 
better  as  inspiration  than  as  prescription.  For  maxims  it 
were  wiser  to  go  to  Bentham,  Mill  or  Bain.  The  plod- 
ders had  best  keep  to  the  beaten  road.  But  for  them 
who  need  an  atmosphere  for  wings,  who  require  the  im- 
pulse of  great  motives,  the  lift  of  upbearing  aspirations — 
for  the  imaginative,  the  passionate,  the  susceptible,  who 
can  achieve  nothing  unless  they  attempt  the  impossible — 
Emerson  is  the  master.  A single  thrill  sent  from  his 
heart  to  ours  is  worth  more  to  the  heart  that  feels  it, 
than  all  the  schedules  of  motive  the  utilitarian  can 
offer. 


X. 


THE  MYSTIC. 

If  among  the  representatives  of  spiritual  philosophy 
the  first  place  belongs  to  Mr.  Emerson,  the  second  must 
be  assigned  to  Mr.  Amos  Bronson  Alcott, — older  than 
Mr.  Emerson  by  four  years  (he  was  born  in  I779)>  a 
contemporary  in  thought,  a companion,  for  years  a 
fellow  townsman,  and,  if  that  were  possible,  more  pure- 
ly and  exclusively  a devotee  of  spiritual  ideas.  Mr. 
Alcott  may  justly  be  called  a mystic — one  of  the  very 
small  class  of  persons  who  accept  without  qualification, 
and  constantly  teach  the  doctrine  of  the  soul’s  primacy 
and  pre-eminence.  He  is  not  a learned  man,  in  the  or- 
dinary sense  of  the  term  ; not  a man  of  versatile  mind 
or  various  tastes  ; not  a man  of  general  information  in 
worldly  or  even  literary  affairs  ; not  a man  of  extensive 
commerce  with  books.  Though  a reader,  and  a con- 
stant and  faithful  one,  his  reading  has  been  limited  to 
books  of  poetry — chiefly  of  the  meditative  and  interior 
sort — and  works  of  spiritual  philosophy.  Plato,  Plotinus, 
Proclus,  Jamblichus,  Pythagoras,  Boehme,  Swedenborg, 
Fludd,  Pordage,  Henry  More,  Law,  Crashaw,  Selden, 
are  the  names  oftener  than  any  on  his  pages  and  lips.  He 
early  made  acquaintance  with  Bunyan’s  “ Pilgrim’s  Pro- 
ll# 


250 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


gress,”  and  never  ceased  to  hold  it  exceedingly  precious, 
at  one  period  making  it  a rule  to  read  the  volume  once 
a year.  His  books  are  his  friends  ; his  regard  for  them 
seems  to  be  personal  ; he  enjoys  their  society  with  the 
feeling  that  he  gives  as  well  as  receives.  He  loves  them 
ii  part  because  they  love  him  ; consequently,  in  all  his 
quoting  of  them,  his  own  mind  comes  in  as  introducer 
and  voucher  as  it  were.  His  indebtedness  to  them  is 
expressed  with  the  cordiality  of  an  intimate,  rather 
than  with  the  gratitude  of  a disciple.  His  own  mind  is 
so  wakeful  and  thoughtful,  so  quick  and  ready  to  take 
the  initiative,  that  it  is  hard  to  say  in  what  respect  even 
his  favorite  and  familiar  authors  have  enriched  him. 
What  was  not  originally  his  own,  is  so  entirely  made  his 
own  by  sympathetic  absorption,  that  the  contribution 
which  others  have  made  is  not  to  be  distinguished  from 
his  native  stores.  Few  men  seem  less  dependent  on 
literature  than  he. 

Mr.  Alcott  is  a thinker,  interior,  solitary,  deeply  con- 
versant with  the  secrets  of  his  own  mind,  like  thinkers 
of  his  order,  clear,  earnest,  but  not  otherwise  than  mon- 
otonous from  the  reiteration  of  his  primitive  ideas.  We 
have  called  him  a mystic.  Bearing  in  mind  the  deriva- 
tions of  the  word — iiveov — to  brood,  to  meditate,  to  shut 
one’s  self  up  in  the  recesses  of  consciousness,  to  sink 
into  the  depths  of  one’s  own  being  for  the  purpose  of 
exploring  the  world  which  that  being  contains  ; of  dis- 
covering how  deep  and  boundless  it  is,  of  meeting  in 
its  retreats  the  form  of  the  Infinite  Being  who  walks 
there  in  the  evening,  and  makes  his  voice  audible  in 


THE  MYSTIC. 


251 


the  mysterious  whispers  that  breathe  over  its  plains, — 
it  well  describes  him.  He  is  a philosopher  of  that 
school ; instead  of  seeking  wisdom  by  intellectual  pro- 
cesses, using  induction  and  deduction,  and  creeping 
step  by  step  towards  his  goal, — he  appeals  at  once  to 
the  testimony  of  consciousness,  claims  immediate  in- 
sight, and  instead  of  hazarding  a doctrine  which  he  has 
argued,  announces  a truth  which  he  has  seen  ; he  studies 
the  mystery  of  being  in  its  inward  disclosures,  con- 
templates ultimate  laws  and  fundamental  data  in  his  own 
soul. 

While  Mr.  Emerson’s  idealism  was  nourished — so  far  as 
it  was  supplied  with  nourishment  from  foreign  sources 
— by  the  genius  of  India,  Mr.  Alcott’s  was  fed  by  the 
speculation  of  Greece.  Kant  was  not  his  master,  neither 
was  Fichte  nor  Schelling,  but  Pythagoras  rather  ; Py- 
thagoras more  than  Plato,  with  whom,  notwithstanding 
his  great  admiration,  he  is  less  intimately  allied.  He 
talks  about  Plato,  he  talks  Pythagoras.  Of  the  latter 
he  says : 

“ Of  the  great  educators  of  antiquity,  I esteem 
Pythagoras  the  most  eminent  and  successful ; everything 
of  his  doctrine  and  discipline  comes  commended  by  its 
elegance  and  humanity,  and  justifies  the  name  he  bore 
of  the  golden-souled  Samian,  and  founder  of  Greek  cul- 
tnre.  He  seems  to  have  stood  in  providential  nearness 
to  human  sensibility,  as  if  his  were  a maternal  relation 
as  well,  and  he  owned  the  minds  whom  he  nurtured  and 
educated.  The  first  of  philosophers,  taking  the  name 
for  its  modesty  of  pretension,  he  justified  his  claim  to 
it  in  the  attainments  and  services  of  his  followers  ; his 
school  having  given  us  Socrates,  Plato,  Pericles,  Plu- 


252 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


tarch,  Plotinus,  and  others  of  almost  equal  fame,  found- 
ers of  states  and  cultures.  . . . He  was  rever- 

enced by  the  multitude  as  one  under  the  influence  of 
divine  inspiration.  He  abstained  from  all  intoxicating 
drinks,  and  from  animal  food,  confining  himself  to  a 
chaste  nutriment ; hence  his  sleep  was  short  and  un- 
disturbed ; his  soul  vigilant  and  pure  ; his  body  in 
state  of  perfect  and  invariable  health.  He  was  free 
from  the  superstitions  of  his  time,  and  pervaded  with  a 
deep  sense  of  duty  towards  God,  and  veneration  for  his 
divine  attributes  and  immanency  in  things.  He  fixed 
his  mind  so  intently  on  the  attainment  of  wisdom, 
that  systems  and  mysteries  inaccessible  to  others  were 
opened  to  him  by  his  magic  genius  and  sincerity  of 
purpose.  The  great  principle  with  which  he  started, 
that  of  being  a seeker  rather  than  a possessor  of  truth, 
seemed  ever  to  urge  him  forward  with  a diligence  and 
activity  unprecedented  in  the  history  of  the  past,  and 
perhaps  unequalled  since.  He  visited  every  man  who 
could  claim  any  degree  of  fame  for  wisdom  or  learning ; 
whilst  the  rules  of  antiquity  and  the  simplest  operations 
of  nature  seemed  to  yield  to  his  researches  ; and  we 
moderns  are  using  his  eyes  in  many  departments  of  ac- 
tivity into  which  pure  thought  enters,  being  indebted  to 
him  for  important  discoveries  alike  in  science  and  meta- 
physics.” 


It  is  evident  that  the  New  England  sage  made  the 
Greek  philosopher  his  model  in  other  respects  than  the 
adoption  of  his  philosophical  method  implied.  The 
rules  of  personal  conduct  and  behavior,  of  social  inter- 
course, and  civil  association,  were  studiously  practised 
on  by  the  American  disciple,  who  seemed  never  to  for- 
get the  dignified  and  gracious  figure  whose  fame  charmed 
him. 


THE  MYSTIC . 


253 


Mr.  Alcott’s  philosophical  ideas  are  not  many,  but 
they  are  profound  and  significant. 

“The  Dialectic,  or  Method  of  the  Mind,” — he  says  in 
“ Concord  Days,”  under  the  head  of  Ideal  Culture, — 
“ constitutes  the  basis  of  all  culture.  Without  a thorough 
discipline  in  this,  our  schools  and  universities  give  but  a 
showy  and  superficial  training.  The  knowledge  of  mind 
is  the  beginning  of  all  knowledge  ; without  this,  a theology 
is  baseless,  the  knowledge  of  God  impossible.  Modern 
education  has  not  dealt  with  these  deeper  questions  of 
life  and  being.  It  has  the  future  in  which  to  prove  its 
power  of  conducting  a cultus  answering  to  the  discipline 
of  the  Greek  thinkers,  Pythagoras,  Plato,  Aristotle.” 

“ As  yet  we  deal  with  mind  with  far  less  certainty  than 
with  matter  ; the  realm  of  intellect  having  been  less  ex- 
plored than  the  world  of  the  senses,  and  both  are  treated 
conjecturally  rather  than  absolutely.  When  we  come  to 
perceive  that  intuition  is  the  primary  postulate  of  all 
intelligence,  most  questions  now  perplexing  and  obscure 
will  become  transparent ; the  lower  imperfect  methods 
then  take  rank  where  they  belong,  and  are  available. 
The  soul  leads  the  senses  ; the  reason  the  understanding  ; 
imagination  the  memory  ; instinct  and  intuition  include 
and  prompt  the  Personality  entire.” 

“ The  categories  of  imagination  are  the  poet’s  tools  ; 
those  of  the  reason,  the  implements  of  the  naturalist. 
The  dialectic  philosopher  is  master  of  them  both.  The 
tools  to  those  only  who  can  handle  them  skilfully.  All 
others  but  gash  themselves  and  their  subject  at  best. 
Ask  not  a man  of  understanding  to  solve  a problem  in 
metaphysics.  He  has  neither  wit,  weight,  nor  scales  for 
the  task.  But  a man  of  reason  or  of  imagination  solves 
readily  the  problems  of  understanding,  the  moment  these 
are  fairly  stated.  Indeas  are  solvents  of  all  mysteries, 
whether  in  matter  or  in  mind.” 

“ Having  drank  of  immortality  all  night,  the  genius 


254 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


enters  eagerly  upon  the  day’s  task,  impatient  of  any  im- 
pertinences jogging  the  full  glass.  . . . Sleep  and 

see  ; wake,  and  report  the  nocturnal  spectacle.  Sleep, 
like  travel,  enriches,  refreshes,  by  varying  the  day’s 
perspective,  showing  us  the  night  side  of  the  globe 
we  traverse  day  by  day.  We  make  transits  too  swift  for 
our  wakeful  senses  to  follow  ; pass  from  solar  to  lunar 
consciousness  in  a twinkling  ; lapse  from  forehead  and  face 
to  occupy  our  lower  parts,  and  recover,  as  far  as  per- 
mitted, the  keys  of  genesis  and  of  the  fore  worlds.  ‘All 
truth/  says  Porphyry,  ‘is  latent;’  but  this  the  soul 
sometimes  beholds,  when  she  is  a little  liberated  by 
sleep  from  the  employments  of  the  body,  and  sometimes 
she  extends  her  sight,  but  never  perfectly  reaches  the 
objects  of  her  vision.” 

“ The  good  alone  dream  divinely.  Our  dreams  are 
characteristic  of  our  waking  thoughts  and  states  ; we 
are  never  out  of  character  ; never  quite  another,  even 
when  fancy  seeks  to  metamorphose  us  entirely.  The 
Person  is  One  in  all  the  manifold  phases  of  the  Many, 
through  which  we  transmigrate,  and  we  find  ourself 
perpetually,  because  we  cannot  lose  ourself  personally 
in  the  mazes  of  the  many.  ’Tis  the  one  soul  in  manifold 
shapes.  Ever  the  old  friend  of  the  mirror  in  other  face, 
old  and  new,  yet  one  in  endless  revolution  and  meta- 
morphosis, suggesting  a common  relationship  of  forms  at 
their  base,  with  divergent  types  as  these  range  wider  and 
farther  from  their  central  archetype,  including  all  con- 
crete forms  in  nature,  each  returning  into  other,  and 
departing  therefrom  in  endless  revolution.” 

“ What  is  the  bad  but  lapse  from  good, — the  good 
blindfolded?” 

“ One’s  foes  are  of  his  own  household.-  If  his  house 
is  haunted,  it  is  by  himself  only.  Our  choices  are  our 
Saviors  or  Satans.” 

“ The  celestial  man  is  composed  more  largely  of  light 
and  ether.  The  demoniac  man  of  fire  and  vapor.  The 
animal  man  of  embers  and  dust.” 


THE  MYSTIC. 


255 


“ The  sacraments,  symbolically  considered,  are 

Baptism,  or  purification  by  water; 

Continence,  or  chastity  in  personal  indulgences  ; 

Fasting,  or  temperance  in  outward  delights; 

Prayer,  or  aspiring  aims  ; 

Labor,  or  prayer  in  act  or  pursuits. 

These  are  the  regimen  of  inspiration  and  thought.” 

The  following,  from  the  chapter  entitled  “ Genesis  and 
Lapse,”  in  “ Concord  Days,”  extends  Mr.  Alcott’s  prin- 
ciple to  a deep  problem  in  speculative  truth.  He  quotes 
Coleridge  thus  : 

“ The  great  maxim  in  legislation,  intellectual  or  phy- 
sical, is  subordinate , not  exclude.  Nature,  in  her  ascent, 
leaves  nothing  behind  ; but  at  each  step  subordinates 
and  glorifies, — mass,  crystal,  organ,  sensation,  sentience, 
reflection.” 

Then  he  proceeds  : 

“ Taken  in  reverse  order  of  descent,  spirit  puts  itself 
before  ; at  each  step  protrudes  faculty  in  feature,  function, 
organ,  limb,  subordinating  to  glorify  also, — person,  voli- 
tion, thought,  sensibility,  sense,  body,— animating  thus 
and  rounding  creation  to  soul  and  sense  alike.  The 
naturalist  cannot  urge  too  strongly  the  claims  of  physical, 
nor  the  plea  of  the  idealist  be  too  vigorously  pressed  for 
metaphysical  studies.  One  body  in  one  soul.  Nature 
and  spirit  are  inseparable,  and  are  best  studied  as  a unit. 
Nature  ends  where  spirit  begins.  The  idealist’s  point 
of  view  is  the  obverse  of  the  naturalist’s,  and' each  must 
accost  his  side  with  a first  love  before  use  has  worn  off 
the  bloom,  and  seduced  their  vision. 

“ Whether  man  be  the  successor  or  predecessor  of  his 
inferiors  in  nature,  is  to  be  determined  by  exploring 


256 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


faithfully  the  realms  of  matter  and  of  spirit  alike,  and 
complementing  the  former  in  the  latter.  Whether  sur- 
veyed in  order,  descending  or  ascending,  in  genesis  or 
process,  from  the  side  of  the  idealist  or  of  the  materialist, 
the  keystone  of  the  arch  in  either  case  is  an  ideal,  under- 
propped by  nature  or  upheld  by  mind.” 

“ Man,  the  sum  total  of  animals,  transcends  all  in 
being  a Person,  a responsible  creature.  Man  is  man,  in 
virtue  of  being  a Person,  a self-determining  will,  held  ac- 
countable to  a spiritual  Ideal.  To  affirm  that  brute 
creatures  are  endowed  with  freedom  and  choice,  the  sense 
of  responsibility,  were  to  exalt  them  into  a spiritual  ex- 
istence and  personality  ; whereas,  it  is  plain  enough  that 
they  are  not  above  deliberation  and  choice,  but  below  it, 
under  the  sway  of  Fate,  as  men  are  when  running  coun- 
ter to  reason  and  conscience.  The  will  bridges  the 
chasm  between  man  and  brute,  and  frees  the  fated  crea- 
ture he  were  else.  Solitary,  not  himself,  the  victim  of 
appetite,  inmate  of  the  den,  is  man,  till  freed  from  indi- 
vidualism, and  delivered  into  his  free  Personality.” 


The  next  extract  is  from  the  Chapter  on  Ideals  : 


“ Enthusiasm  is  essential  to  the  successful  attainment 
of  any  high  endeavor  ; without  which  incentive,  one  is 
not  sure  of  his  equality  to  the  humblest  undertakings 
even.  And  he  attempts  little  worth  living  for,  if  he  ex- 
pects completing  his  task  in  an  ordinary  lifetime.  This 
translation  is  for  the  continuance  of  his  work  here 
begun  ; but  for  whose  completion,  time  and  opportunity 
were  all  too  narrow  and  brief.  Himself  is  the  success 
or  failure.  Step  by  step  one  climbs  the  pinnacles  of  ex- 
cellence ; life  itself  is  but  the  stretch  for  that  mountain 
of  holiness.  Opening  here  with  humanity,  ’tis  the  aim- 
ing at  divinity  in  ever-ascending  circles  of  aspiration  and 
endeavor.  Who  ceases  to  aspire,  dies.  Our  pursuits 
are  our  prayers,  our  ideals  our  gods.” 


THE  MYSTIC. 


257 


In  the  journals  of  Theodore  Parker,  Mr.  Alcott  is  rep- 
resented as  taking  an  active  part  in  the  thinking  and 
talking  of  the  period  immediately  preceding  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  “ Dial,”  and  as  expressing  audacious 
opinions  ; among  others,  this — which  suggests  Hegel, 
though  it  might  have  reached  Mr.  Alcott  from  a different 
quarter — that  the  Almighty  progressively  unfolds  him- 
self towards  His  own  perfection  ; and  this,  that  the 
hideous  things  in  nature  are  reflections  of  man’s  animal- 
ism ; that  the  world  being  the  product  of  all  men,  man 
is  responsible  for  its  evil  condition  ; a doctrine  similar  to 
the  Augustinian  doctrine  of  the  Fall,  hinted  at  also  in 
the  Book  of  Genesis.  It  was  the  doctrine  of  Jacob 
Boehme,  one  of  Mr.  Alcott’s  seers,  that  as  the  inevitable 
consequence  of  sin,  the  operation  of  the  Seven  Qualities 
in  Lucifer’s  dominion  became  perverted  and  corrupted. 
The  fiery  principle,  instead  of  creating  the  heavenly 
glory,  produced  wrath  and  torment.  The  astringent 
quality,  that  should  give  stability  and  coherence, 
became  hard  and  stubborn.  The  sweet  was  changed 
to  bitter  ; the  bitter  to  raging  fury.  This  earth— 
once  a province  of  the  heavenly  world — was  broken 
up  into  a chaos  of  wrath  and  darkness,  roaring  with 
the  din  of  conflicting  elements.  Eden  became  a waste  ; 
its  innocence  departed,  its  friendly  creatures  began 
to  bite  and  tear  one  another,  and  man  became  an 
exile  and  a bondsman  to  the  elements  he  once  con- 
trolled. 

In  1837  Mr.  Alcott — not  Mr.  Emerson— was  the  re- 
puted leader  of  the  Transcendentalists,  none  being  more 


258 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


active  than  he  in  diffusing  the  ideas  of  the  Spiritual 
Philosophy,  and  none  being  so  uncompromising  in  his 
interpretations  of  them.  He  was  generally  present  at 
the  meetings  of  the  informal  Club  which,  under  different 
names,  held  meetings  at  the  private  houses  of  members, 
from  1836  to  1850.  Mr.  Ripley  had  consultations  with 
him  in  regard  to  the  proposed  community  which  was  later 
established  at  Brook  Farm.  When  Mr.  Garrison  founded 
the  American  Anti-Slavery  Society,  Mr.  Alcott  joined 
that  cause,  and  was  faithful  to  it  till  the  end.  With  the 
movement  for  the  emancipation  and  elevation  of  women, 
he  was  a sympathizer.  He  was  one  of  the  reformers 
who  met  at  Chardon  Street  Chapel,  in  1840,  to  discuss 
plans  of  universal  reform — Garrison,  Edmund  Quincy, 
Henry  C.  Wright,  Theodore  Parker,  William  H.  Chan- 
ning,  Christopher  Greene,  Maria  Chapman  and  Abby 
Kelly  being  of  the  number.  In  those  days  he  was  inti- 
mate with  Emerson,  Ripley,  Hedge,  Brownson,  Clarke, 
Bartol,  Stetson,  and  well  known  as  a leader  in  specula- 
tive thought.  His  period  of  Pythagorean  discipline  had 
already  begun.  In  1835  he  put  away  the  use  of.animal 
food.  Declining  to  join  either  the  Brook  Farm  commu- 
nity, or  that  of  Adin  Ballou,  at  Milford,  he  undertook  to 
do  his  part  towards  the  solution  of  the  “ labor  and  cul- 
ture problem,”  by  supporting  himself  by  manual  labor 
in  Concord,  working  during  the  summer  in  field  and 
garden,  and  in  winter  chopping  wood  in  the  village 
woodlands,  all  the  time  keeping  his  mind  intent  on  high 
thoughts.  To  conventional  people  he  was  an  object  of 
ridicule,  not  unmingled  with  contempt,  as  an  improvi- 


THE  MYSTIC. 


259 


dent  visionary.  But  Dr.  Channing  held  him  in  admira- 
tion. 

“ Mr.  Alcott,”  he  wrote  to  a friend,  “ little  suspects 
how  my  heart  goes  out  to  him.  One  of  my  dearest 
ideas  and  hopes  is  the  union  of  labor  and  culture.  I 
wish  to  see  labor  honored  and  united  with  the  free 
development  of  the  intellect  and  heart.  Mr.  Alcott, 
hiring  himself  out  for  day  labor,  and  at  the  same  time 
living  in  a region  of  high  thought,  is  perhaps  the  most 
interesting  object  in  our  commonwealth.  I do  not  care 
much  for  Orpheus,  in  “The  Dial,”  but  Orpheus  at  the 
plough  is  after  my  own  heart.  There  he  teaches  a grand 
lesson,  more  than  most  of  us  teach  by  the  pen.” 

The  Orpheus  in  “ The  Dial  ” perplexed  others  beside 
Dr.  Channing,  and  amused  nearly  all  he  perplexed — all 
whom  he  did  not  exasperate  and  enrage.  The  “ Orphic 
Sayings  ” — Mr.  Alcott’s  contribution  to  the  magazine 
— attracted  the  attention  of  the  critics,  who  made  them 
an  excuse  for  assailing  with  ridicule,  the  entire  trans- 
cendental party.  “ Identity  halts  in  diversity.”  “ The 
poles  of  things  are  not  integrated.”  “ Love  globes, 
wisdom  orbs,  all  things.”  “ Love  is  the  Genius  of 
Spirit.”  “ Alway  are  the  divine  Gemini  intertwined,” — 
the  very  school-boys  repeated  these  dark  sayings,  with 
a tone  that  consigned  the  “ Dial  ” and  its  oracles  to  the 
insane  asylum.  Yet  the  thought  was  intelligible,  and 
even  simple.  In  ordinary  prose  it  would  have  sounded 
like  common-place.  It  was  the  mystic  phrase,  and  the 
perpetual  reiteration  of  absolute  principles  that  made 
the  propositions  seem  obscure.  The  extracts  from  these 
“ Sayings,”  given  in  a previous  chapter,  are  remarkable 


260 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


for  crystalline  clearness  of  conception,  as  well  as  of  ex- 
pression.  The  writer’s  aim  evidently  was  to  deliver 
what  he  had  to  utter,  in  language  of  exact  outline,  and 
with  the  utmost  economy  of  words.  A singular  sin- 
cerity characterized  his  mind  and  his  life  ; he  formed 
his  beliefs  on  ideal  laws,  and  based  his  conduct  on  them. 
In  conduct  and  bearing,  as  in  thought,  he  was  a disciple 
of  the  philosopher  of  Samos.  Fascinated  by  his  vision 
of  an  ideal  society,  and  determined  to  commence  with 
a scheme  of  his  own,  he  resolutely  began  by  withdraw- 
ing from  civil  society  as  constituted,  declined  to  pay  the 
tax  imposed  by  the  authorities,  and  was  lodged  in  Con- 
cord jail,  where  he  would  have  stayed,  had  not  his  friend, 
Samuel  Hoar,  father  of  Judge  Hoar,  paid  the  tax  for 
him,  against  his  wish,  and  procured  his  immediate  re- 
lease. This  was  in  1843.  The  next  spring  found  him 
inspecting  lands  suitable  for  a community.  The  next 
summer  saw  him,  with  some  English  friends,  domesti- 
cated on  the  “Wyman  Farm,”  at  Harvard,  a piece  of 
ninety  acres,  bordering  the  Nashua  river,  with  an  old 
house  on  it.  “ Fruitlands” — for  so  the  community  was 
named — did  not  justify  its  name.  A single  summer  and 
autumn  dissipated  the  hopes  planted  there,  and  with 
them  the  faith  that  the  world  could  be  refashioned  by 
artificial  arrangements  of  circumstances. 

The  surprising  thing  was,  that  such  a man  should  ever 
have  fallen  into  the  notion  that  it  could  ; he  was  an 
idealist ; his  faith  was  in  the  soul — not  in  organization 
of  any  sort ; he  was  a regenerator,  not  a reformer.  All 
the  good  work  he  had  done  was  of  the  regenerative 


THE  MYSTIC. 


261 


kind,  through  an  awakening  of  the  spiritual  powers  of 
individuals.  His  mission  was  to  educate — to  draw  out 
souls,  whether  of  children  or  adults.  Faith  in  the  soul 
was  his  inspiration  and  his  guide.  He  early  accepted 
the  office  of  teacher,  made  it  the  calling  of  his  life, 
and  in  the  exercise  of  it,  kept  in  mind  this  faith  in  the 
soul  as  the  highest  of  qualifications.  To  understand  his 
enthusiasm,  it  is  only  necessary  to  apprehend  his  idea. 
In  the  chapter  on  Childhood,  in  “ Concord  Days,”  that 
idea  is  thus  conveyed  : 

“ To  conceive  a child’s  acquirements  as  originating  in 
nature,  dating  from  his  birth  into  his  body,  seems  an 
atheism  that  only  a shallow  metaphysical  theology  could 
entertain  in  a time  of  such  marvellous  natural  knowledge 
as  ours.  ‘ I shall  never  persuade  myself,’  says  Synesius, 
‘ to  believe  my  soul  to  be  of  like  age  with  my  body.’ 
And  yet  we  are  wont  to  date  our  birth,  as  that  of  the 
babes  we  christen,  from  the  body’s  advent,  so  duteously 
inscribed  in  our  family  registers,  as  if  time  and  space 
could  chronicle  the  periods  of  the  immortal  mind,  and 
mark  its  longevity  by  our  chronometers.  Only  a God 
could  inspire  a child  with  the  intimations  seen  in  its  first 
pulse-plays  ; the  sprightly  attainments  of  a single  day’s 
doings  afford  the  liveliest  proofs  of  an  omniscient  Deity, 
revealing  His  attributes  in  the  motions  of  the  little  one  ! 

Were  the  skill  for  touching  its  tender  sensi- 
bilities, calling  forth  its  budding  gifts,  equal  to  the 
charms  the  child  has  for  us,  what  noble  characters  would 
graduate  from  our  families — -the  community  receiving 
its  members  accomplished  in  the  personal  graces,  the 
state  its  patriots,  the  church  its  saints,  all  glorifying  the 
race.” 

The  process  of  education  was  spiritual,  therefore,  to 
entice  the  indwelling  deity  forth  by  sympathy.  The 


262 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


first  experiment  made  with  set  purpose,  with  definite 
idea  and  calculated  method,  was  tried  in  Cheshire,  Con- 
necticut, in  1825.  So  original  was  it  in  design  and  exe- 
cution, and  so  remarkable  in  results,  that  the  fame  of  it 
went  abroad.  Rev.  Samuel  J.  May,  minister  in  Brook- 
lyn, Conn.,  a zealous  friend  of  common-school  educa- 
tion, being,  along  with  the  school  committee,  convinced 
that  the  schools  throughout  the  State  needed  improve- 
ment, prepared  a printed  circular  calling  attention  to  the 
subject,  and  propounding  questions  so  framed  as  to 
draw  out  full  and  precise  information  from  every  town. 
Among  the  letters  received  in  answer  to  the  circular 
was  one  from  Dr.  Wm.  A.  Alcott,  a “ philosopher  and 
philanthropist,”  author  of  the  “ House  I Live  In,”  and 
other  books  on  physical  and  moral  training,  calling  par- 
ticular attention  to  this  remarkable  school,  kept  on  a 
very  original  plan,  by  his  kinsman  : 

“His  account,”  says  Mr.  May,  “excited  so  much 
my  curiosity  to  know  more  of  the  American  Pestalozzi, 
as  he  has  since  been  called,  that  I wrote  immediately  to 
Mr.  A.  B.  Alcott,  begging  him  to  send  me  a detailed 
statement  of  his  principles  and  methods  of  teaching  and 
of  training  children.  In  due  time  came  to  me  a full  ac- 
count of  the  school  of  Cheshire,  which  revealed  such  a 
depth  of  insight  into  the  nature  of  man  ; such  a true 
sympathy  with  children  ; such  profound  appreciation  of 
the  work  of  education  ; and  withal,  so  philosophically 
arranged  and  exquisitely  written,  that  I at  once  felt  as- 
sured the  man  must  be  a genius,  and  that  I must  know 
him  more  intimately ; so  I wrote,  inviting  him  urgently, 
to  visit  me.  I also  sent  the  account  of  his  school  to 
Mr.  William  Russell,  in  Boston,  then  editing  the  first 
Journal  of  Education  ever  published  in  our  country. 


THE  MYSTIC. 


263 


Mr.  Russell  thought  as  highly  of  the  article  as  I did, 
and  gave  it  to  the  public  in  his  next  October  number.” 
“Mr.  Alcott  accepted  my  invitation;  he  came  and 
passed  a week  with  me  before  the  close  of  the  summer. 
I have  never,  but  in  one  other  instance,  been  so  imme- 
diately taken  possession  of  by  any  man  I have  ever  met 
in  life.  He  seemed  to  me  like  a born  sage  and  saint. 
He  was  radical  in  all  matters  of  reform  ; went  to  the 
root  of  all  things,  especially  the  subjects  of  education, 
mental  and  moral  culture.  If  his  biography  shall  ever 
be  written  by  one  who  can  appreciate  him,  and  es- 
pecially if  his  voluminous  writings  shall  be  properly 
published,  it  will  be  known  how  unique  he  was  in 
wisdom  and  purity.” 


The  chief  peculiarity  of  the  Cheshire  School  was  the 
effort  made  there  to  rouse  and  elevate  individual  minds. 
Single  desks  were  substituted  for  the  long  forms  in 
common  use  ; blackboards  were  introduced,  and  slates 
which  put  the  pupils  on  their  mettle  ; a library  was 
instituted  of  carefully  selected  books,  the  reading  whereof 
was  diligently  supervised  and  directed  ; hopes  were 
appealed  to  instead  of  fears  ; gentleness  took  the  place 
of  severity  ; the  affections  and  moral  sentiments  were 
addressed,  to  give  full  action  to  the  heart  and  conscience, 
the  physical  being  replaced  by  the  spiritual  scourge  ; 
light  gymnastic  exercises  were  introduced  ; evening 
entertainments  gladdened  the  school  room  after  working 
hours  ; even  the  youngest  scholars  were  encouraged  to 
clear  their  minds  by  keeping  diaries.  In  these  and  other 
ways,  especially  by  the  enthusiasm  and  dignity  of  the 
master,  knowledge  was  made  attractive,  and  the  teacher’s 
office  was  made  venerable. 


264 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


The  plan,  albeit  nearly  the  same  with  that  practised  by 
Pestalozzi  in  Switzerland,  was  original  with  Mr.  Alcott, 
the  product  of  his  peculiar  philosophical  ideas.  Had 
those  ideas  been  less  deep  and  lofty,  the  method  might 
have  commended  itself  to  all  as  it  did  to  Mr.  May  ; but, 
had  they  been  less  deep  and  lofty,  it  would  not  have  been 
tried  at  all.  A profound  faith  in  the  soul  suggested  it,  and 
certainly  a profound  faith  was  required  to  sustain  it.  But 
faith  in  the  soul  was  no  more  popular  then  than  it  is 
now,  implying,  as  it  did,  radical  convictions  on  all 
sorts  of  questions,  and  familiar  assumption  of  the 
truth  of  the  opinions.  Such  a teacher  is  net  permit- 
ted to  be  conventional.  Mr.  Alcott  showed  himself 
the  disciple  of  Pythagoras  in  that  he  was  the  wor- 
shipper of  ideal  truth  and  purity,  the  uncompromising 
servant  of  the  spiritual  laws.  When  this  was  fairly 
understood,  as  it  was  in  two  years,  the  experiment  was 
terminated. 

The  idea,  which  made  the  teacher  suspected  by  the 
school  committee  boards,  was  recognized  and  applauded 
by  the  finest  spirits  in  New  England,  New  York  and 
Pennsylvania.  The  reformers  hailed  the  reformer  ; the 
spiritualists  welcomed  the  spiritualist.  In  Hartford, 
Drs.  Gallaudet  and  Barnard;  in  Boston,  Dr.  Charming 
and  Mr.  Garrison,  the  Mays,  Quincys,  Phillipses,  and 
other  families  of  character  and  courage  ; in  Philadelphia, 
Dr.  Furness,  Matthew  Cary,  Robert  Vaux,  and  the 
radical  Friends  took  him  up.  Mr.  Emerson  saluted  him 
with  high  expectation,  in  the  words  addressed  by  Burke 
to  John  Howard  : 


7 HE  MYSTIC.  265 

“Your  plan  is  original,  and  as  full  of  genius  as  of 
humanity  ; so  do  not  let  it  sleep  or  stop  a day.” 

The  project  of  a school  on  the  new  plan  was  started 
in  Boston  ; Margaret  Fuller,  Elizabeth  Peabody,  Miss 
Hoar,  Mrs.  Nath’l  Hawthorne  being  among  the  most 
deeply  interested.  It  was  kept  in  the  Masonic  Temple 
during  the  year  1834.  The  account  of  this  experiment 
has  been  so  fully  given  by  Miss  Peabody,  the  original 
scribe,  in  a volume  entitled  “ Record  of  a School,” 
placed  within  easy  reach  by  a Boston  publisher,  only  two 
years  ago,  and  largely  read,  that  to  describe  it  here 
would  be  impertinent.  In  her  new  preface,  Miss  Pea- 
body, who  of  late  years  has  become  an  enthusiastic 
advocate  of  Froebel’s  method,  which  approaches  the  mind 
from  the  outside,  while  Mr.  Alcott  approaches  it  from 
the  inside,  frankly  declares  that  she  has 

“ Come  to  doubt  the  details  of  his  method  of  pro- 
cedure, and  to  believe  that  Frcebel’s  method  of  cultivating- 
children  through  artistic  production  in  the  childish  sphere 
of  affection  and  fancy  is  a healthier  and  more  effective  way 
than  self  inspection,  for  at  least  those  years  of  a child’s 
life  before  the  age  of  seven.” 

While  thus  honestly  declaring  her  abandonment  of 
Mr.  Alcott’s  plan,  she  affirms  her  belief 

“ That  his  school  was  a marked  benefit  to  every  child 
with  whom  he  came  into  communication.  . . . ” 

“ What  I witnessed  in  his  school  room  threw  for  me  a 
new  light  into  the  profoundest  mysteries  that  have  been 
consecrated  by  the  Christian  symbols  ; and  the  study  of 
12 


266 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


childhood  made  there  I would  not  exchange  for  anything 
else  I have  experienced  in  life.” 

The  Boston  school  was  made  more  closely  conform- 
able to  the  spiritual  idea  than  any  previous  ones.  The 
intellectual  tone  of  the  society  he  frequented,  the  sym- 
pathy of  his  transcendental  friends,  the  standing  of 
his  pupils,  the  expectation  of  exacting  lookers  on, 
encouraged  the  philosopher  to  give  free  rein  to  his 
theory.  The  principle  of  vicarious  punishment— the 
innocent  bearing  pain  for  the  guilty — the  master  for 
the  pupil — was  adopted  as  likely  to  enlist  the  senti- 
ment of  honor  and  noble  shame  in  the  cause  of  good 
behavior.  A portion  of  the  time  was  set  apart  for  direct 
address  by  way  of  question  and  answer,  to  the  higher 
faculties  of  the  scholars.  Mr.  Alcott  gave  a series  of 
“ Conversations  on  the  Gospels,”  with  most  interesting 
and  surprising  results.  These  too  were  reported,  and  are 
very  suggestive  and  astonishing  reading. 

But  even  in  Boston,  the  teacher’s  faith  in  the  soul 
found  an  unresponsive  public.  The  “ Conversations  on 
the  Gospels  ” were  furiously  attacked  in  the  newspapers. 
The  conservative  spirit  was  aroused  ; the  sectarian  feel- 
ing was  shocked  ; and  the  school,  which  began  with 
thirty  pupils,  and  rose  to  forty,  fell  away  to  ten  ; the 
receipts,  which  in  the  first  year  were  $1,794,  in  the 
fourth  (1837),  were  but  $549,  and  at  last  only  $343.  In 
April,  1839,  the  furniture,  library  and  apparatus  of  the 
school  were  sold  to  pay  debts.  The  culture,  refinement, 
liberality,  philosophic  aspiration  of  Boston,  led  by  such 


THE  MYSTIC. 


267 


men  as  James  Freeman  Clarke,  Frederick  H.  Hedge, 
Chandler  Robbins,  George  Russell,  and  by  such  women 
as  Margaret  Fuller,  Miss  Peabody,  Miss  Martineau,  and 
the  mothers  of  boys  who  have  since  done  credit  to  their 
names,  were  not  sufficient  to  protect  the  institution  from 
failure,  or  the  teacher  from  insult  and  obloquy.  Pre- 
judice, and  prejudice  alone,  defeated  the  scheme. 

But  the  idea  and  the  apostle  survived.  Miss  Har- 
riet Martineau,  who  knew  Mr.  Alcott  well  in  1837, 
spoke  of  him  on  her  return  home  to  James  Pierrepont 
Greaves,  an  ardent  English  disciple  of  Pestalozzi.  Mr. 
Greaves  gave  the  name  “ Alcott  House,”  to  a school 
near  London,  which  he  had  founded  on  the  Pestalozzian 
method ; he  even  meditated  a visit  to  America,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  the  New 
England  sage,  and  would  have  done  so  but  for  illness, 
which  terminated  in  death.  A long  letter  from  him  to 
Mr.  Alcott,  was  printed  in  the  “Dial”  of  April,  1843, 
a portion  whereof  it  is  interesting  to  read,  because  it 
throws  light  on  the  cardinal  ideas  of  this  school  of  think- 
ers. Mr.  Alcott’s  reply  to  the  letter  is  not  before  us, 
but  it  was  probably,  in  the  main,  sympathetic.  The 
letter  is  dated  London,  16th  December,  1837  : 

DEAR  Sir, — Believing  the  Spirit  has  so  far  established 
its  nature  in  you,  as  to  make  you  willing  to  co-operate 
with  itself  in  Love  operations,  I am  induced,  without 
apology,  to  address  you  as  a friend  and  companion  in 
the  hidden  path  of  Love’s  most  powerful  revelations. 
“ The  Record  of  a School  ” having  fallen  into  my  hands, 
through  Miss  Harriet  Martineau,  I have  perused  it  with 
deep  interest;  and  the  object  of  my  present  address  to 


268 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


you  (occasioned  by  this  work)  is  to  obtain  a more  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  one,  in  our  Sister  Land,  who  is  so 
divinely  and  universally  developed.  Permit  me,  there- 
fore, dear  sir,  in  simple  affection,  to  put  a few  questions 
to  you,  which,  if  answered,  will  give  me  possession  of  that 
information  respecting  you  and  your  work,  which  I think 
will  be  useful  to  present  and  to  future  generations  of  men. 
Also  a mutual  service  may  be  rendered  to  ourselves, 
by  assisting  to  evolve  our  own  being  more  completely, 
thereby  making  us  more  efficient  instruments  for  Love’s 
use,  in  carrying  forward  the  work  which  it  has  begun 
within  us.  The  Unity  himself  must  have  his  divine 
purpose  to  accomplish  in  and  by  us,  or  he  would  not 
have  prepared  us  as  far  as  he  has.  I am,  therefore, 
willing  to  withhold  nothing,  but  to  receive  and  transmit 
all  he  is  pleased  to  make  me  be,  and  thus,  at  length,  to 
become  an  harmonious  being.  This  he  can  readily  work 
in  the  accomplishment  of  his  primitive  purposes.  Should 
you  think  that  a personal  intercourse  of  a few  weeks 
would  facilitate  the  universal  work,  I would  willingly  un- 
dertake the  voyage  to  America  for  that  purpose.  There 
is  so  decided  and  general  a similarity  in  the  sentiments 
and  natures  addressed  in  the  account  of  your  teaching, 
that  a contact  of  spirits  so  alike  developed  would,  no 
doubt,  prove  productive  of  still  further  development. 
Your  school  appears  to  work  deeper  than  any  we  have’ 
in  England,  and  its  inner  essential  character  interests  me. 
If  an  American  bookseller  will  send  over  any  of  your 
books  to  his  correspondents  here,  I shall  be  happy  to 
receive  and  pay  for  them. 

In  the  year  1817  some  strong  interior  visitations  came 
over  me,  which  withdrew  me  from  the  world  in  a consider- 
able degree, and  I was  enabled  to  yield  myself  up  to  Love’s 
own  manner  of  acting,  regardless  of  all  consequences. 
Soon  after  this  time,  I met  with  an  account  of  the  Spirit’s 
work  in  and  by  the  late  venerable  Pestalozzi,  which  so 
interested  me  that  I proceeded  at  once  to  visit  him  in 
Switzerland,  and  remained  with  him  in  holy  fellowship 


THE  MYSTIC. 


269 


four  years.  After  that  I was  working  with  considerable 
success  amongst  the  various  students  in  that  country, 
when  the  prejudices  of  the  self-made  wise  and  powerful 
men  became  jealous  of  my  influence,  and  I was  advised 
to  return  to  England,  which  I did  ; and  have  been  work- 
ing in  various  ways  of  usefulness  ever  since,  from  the  deep 
centre  to  the  circumference  ; and  am  now  engaged  in 
writing  my  conscientious  experiences  as  well  as  I can 
represent  them  in  words,  and  in  teaching  all  such  as 
come  within  my  sphere  of  action.  Receptive  beings, 
however,  have  as  yet  been  but  limited,  and  those  who 
permanently  retain , have  been  still  less  ; yet,  at  present, 
there  appears  a greater  degree  of  awakening  to  the  cen- 
tral love-sensibility  than  before.  I see  many  more 
symptoms  of  the  harvest-time  approaching  in  this  coun- 
try. There  is,  at  present,  no  obvious  appearance  of  the 
Love-seed  beginning  to  germinate. 


The  child  has  two  orders  of  faculties  which  are  to  be 
educated,  essential  and  semi-essential ; or  in  other  words, 
roots  and  branches. 

Radical  faculties  belong  to  the  interior  world,  and  the 
branchial  to  the  exterior. 

To  produce  a central  effect  on  the  child,  the  radical 
faculties  must  be  first  developed ; to  represent  this  effect, 
the  branchial  faculties  must  be  developed. 

The  radical  faculties  belong  entirely  to  Love ; the 
branchial  to  knowledge  and  industry. 

It  is  imperative  upon  us  to  follow  the  determination 
of  the  radical  faculties,  and  to  modify  the  branchial 
always  in  obedience  to  the  radical. 

It  is  the  child,  or  the  Love-Spirit  in  the  child,  that  we 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


270 

must  obey,  and  no.t  suffer  the  Parents  or  any  one  else  to 
divert  us  from  it. 

Good  is  not  to  be  determined  by  man’s  wishes,  but 
Good  must  originate  and  determine  the  wish. 

The  Preceptor  must  watch  attentively  for  every  new 
exhibition  of  the  child’s  radical  faculties,  and  obey  them 
as  divine  laws. 

We  must  in  every  movement  consider  that  it  is  the 
Infinite  perfecting  the  finite. 

All  that  is  unnecessary  in  the  external  must  be  kept 
from  the  child. 

The  Preceptor’s  duty  is,  as  far  as  possible,  to  remove 
every  hindrance  out  of  the  child’s  way. 

The  closer  he  keeps  the  child  to  the  Spirit,  the  less  it 
will  want  of  us,  or  anyone  else. 

The  child  has  an  inward,  sacred,  and  unchangeable 
nature  ; which  nature  is  the  Temple  of  Love.  This  na- 
ture only  demands  what  it  will  give,  if  properly  attended 
to,  viz.:  Unfettered  Liberty. 

The  Love  Germs  can  alone  germinate  with  Love. 
Light  and  Life  are  but  conditions  of  Love.  Divine 
capacities  are  made  by  love  alone. 

Love  education  is  primarily  a passive  one  ; and,  sec- 
ondarily, an  active  one.  To  educate  the  radical  facul- 
ties is  altogether  a new  idea  with  Teachers  at  present. 

The  parental  end  must  be  made  much  more  prominent 
than  it  has  been. 

The  conceptive  powers  want  much  more  purification 
than  the  perceptive  ; and  it  is  only  as  we  purify  the  con- 
ceptive that  we  shall  get  the  perceptive  clear. 


THE  MYSTIC. 


271 


It  is  the  essential  conceptive  powers  that  tinge  all  the 
consequences  of  the  exterior  conceptive  powers. 

We  have  double  conceptions,  and  double  perceptions  ; 
we  are  throughout  double  beings  ; and  claim  the  univer- 
sal morality,  as  well  as  the  personal. 

We  must  now  educate  the  universal  moral  faculties,  as 
before  we  have  only  educated  the  personal  moral 
faculties. 

It  is  in  the  universal  moral  faculties  that  the  laws  re- 
side ; until  these  laws  are  developed,  we  remain  lawless 
beings. 

The  personal  moral  faculties  cannot  stand  without  the 
aid  of  the  universal  moral  faculties,  any  more  than  the 
branches  can  grow  without  the  roots. 

Education,  to  be  decidedly  religious,  should  reach 
man’s  universal  faculties,  those  faculties  which  contain 
the  laws  that  connect  man  with  his  maker. 

These  reflections  seem  to  me  to  be  worthy  of  consider- 
ation. Should  any  of  them  strike  you  as  worth  while 
to  make  an  observation  upon,  I shall  be  happy  to  hear 
it.  Suggestions  are  always  valuable,  as  they  offer  to 
the  mind  the  liberty  of  free  activity.  The  work  we  are 
engaged  in  is  too  extensive  and  important,  to  lose  any 
opportunity  of  gaining  information. 

The  earlier  I receive  your  reply,  the  better. 

I am,  dear  Sir,  yours  faithfully, 

J.  P.  GREAVES. 

In  1842,  Mr.  Alcott  visited  England  with  the  aim  to 
confer  with  the  philanthropists  and  educators  there,  to 


272 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


exchange  views,  collect  information,  and  gather  hints  on 
the  subject  of  literary  and  social  methods.  Mr.  Greaves 
was  dead  ; but  the  living  friends  of  the  “ First  Philos- 
ophy ” received  him  with  hearty  respect  and  joy,  intro- 
duced him  to  men  of  literary  and  philanthropic  eminence, 
and  made  his  arrival  the  occasion  of  meetings  for  con- 
versation on  the  religious,  social  and  ethical  questions  of 
the  day.  The  meetings  were  held  mostly  at  an  institu- 
tion managed  on  his  own  methods  and  called  by  his  own 
name,  the  school  of  Mr.  Wright  at  Alcott  House,  Ham, 
Surrey.  Strange  people  were  some  of  those  he  met, 
Communists,  Alists  (deriving  their  name  from  Alah — - 
the  Hebrew  name  for  God),  Syncretic  Associationists, 
Pestalozzians,  friends  and  advocates  of  self-supporting 
institutions,  experimental  Normal  Schools,  Hydropathic 
and  Philosophical  Associations,  Health  Unions,  Phil- 
ansteries,  Utopias  of  every  descriptioh,  new  social  ar- 
rangements between  the  sexes,  new  devices  for  making 
marriage  what  it  should  be. 

The  London  Morning  Chronicle , of  July  5th,  con- 
tained the  following  advertisement : 

“ Public  Invitation. — An  open  meeting  of  the  friends 
to  human  progress  will  be  held  to-morrow,  July  6th,  at 
Mr.  Wright’s,  Alcott  House  School,  Ham  Common, 
near  Richmond,  Surrey,  for  the  purpose' of  considering 
and  adopting  means  for  the  promotion  of  the  great  end, 
when  all  who  are  interested  in  human  destiny  are  earn- 
estly urged  to  attend.  The  chair  taken  at  three  o’clock, 
and  again  at  seven,  by  A.  Bronson  Alcott,  Esq.,  now 
on  a visit  from  America.  Omnibuses  travel  to  and  fro, 
and  the  Richmond  steamboat  reaches  at  a convenient 
hour.” 


THE  MYSTIC. 


273 


The  call  brought  together  some  sixteen  or  twenty 
persons,  from  various  distances  ; one  a hundred  miles  ; 
another  a hundred  and  fifty.  “ We  did  not  find  it  easy 
to  propose  a question  sufficiently  comprehensive  to  un- 
fold the  whole  of  the  fact  with  which  our  bosoms  la- 
bored,” writes  a private  correspondent  of  the  “ Dial.” 

“We  aimed  at  nothing  less  than  to  speak  of  the  in- 
stauration  of  spirit,  and  its  incarnation  in  a beautiful 
form.  When  a word  failed  in  extent  of  meaning,  we 
loaded  the  word  with  new  meaning.  The  word  did  not 
confine  our  experience,  but  from  our  own  being  we  gave 
significance  to  the  word.  Into  one  body  we  infused 
many  lives,  and  it  shone  as  the  image  of  divine  or  an- 
gelic, or  human  thought.  For  a word  is  a Proteus,  that 
means  to  a man  what  the  man  is.” 

The  “ Dial  ” of  October,  1842,  prints  an  abstract  of 
the  proceedings,  which  are  interesting,  as  illustrations  of 
the  phases  that  the  Spiritual  Philosophy  assumed,  but 
would  occupy  more  space  here  than  their  significance 
warrants.  Three  papers  were  presented,  on  Formation, 
Transition,  Reformation.  The  views,  it  is  needless  to 
say,  were  of  the  extreme  school.  The  essayist  on  the 
first  theme  advanced  the  doctrine  that  evil  commenced 
in  birth  ; that  the  unpardonable  sin  was  an  unholy  birth  ; 
that  birth  “ must  be  surrendered  to  the  spirit.”  The 
second  essayist  maintained  that  property  was  held  on 
the  tenure  of  might  and  immemorial  custom ; that 
“ pure  love,  which  is  ever  communicative,  never  yet 
conceded  to  any  being  the  right  of  appropriation.” 
“ We  ignore  human  governments,  creeds  and  institu- 
tions ; we  deny  the  right  of  any  man  to  dictate  laws  for 
12* 


274 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


our  regulation,  or  duties  for  our  performance  ; and  de- 
clare our  allegiance  only  to  Universal  Love,  the  all- 
embracing  Justice.” 

The. reader  of  the  paper  on  Reformation  pursued  the 
same  train  of  thought ; he  demanded  amendment  of 
monetary  arrangements,  the  penal  code,  education,  the 
church,  the  law  of  primogeniture,  and  divorce  ; chal- 
lenged reliance  on  commercial  prosperity  and  popular 
representation  ; denied  the  right  of  man  to  inflict  pain 
on  man  ; asserted  that  the  question  of  generation  pre- 
ceded that  of  education  ; that  the  reign  of  love  was 
supreme  over  that  of  opinion  ; insisted  on  “ the  rest- 
oration of  all  things  to  their  primitive  Owner,  and  hence 
the  abrogation  of  property — either  individual  or  collec- 
tive and  on  “ the  divine  sanction,  instead  of  the  civil 
and  ecclesiastical  authority,  for  marriage.”  It  was  his 
idea,  that  “ aspirations  are  the  pledge  of  their  own  ful- 
filment,”— that  “beneath  the  actual  which  a man  is, 
there  is  always  covered  a possible  to  tempt  him  forward  ” 
— that  “beneath  sense  lie  reason  and  understanding; 
beneath  them  both,  humility  ; and  beneath  all,  God  ” — 
that  “to  be  God-like  we  must  pass  through  the  grades 
of  progress.”  “ Even  now  the  God-life  is  enfolded  in 
us  ; even  now  the  streams  of  eternity  course  freely  in 
our  central  heart ; if  impelled  by  the  spirit  to  intermin- 
gle with  the  arrangements  of  polities  of  the  world,  in 
order  to  improve  them,  we  shall  discover  the  high  point 
from  which  we  begin,  by  the  God-thought  in  our  inter- 
ference ; our  act  must  be  divine  ; we  seem  to  do,  God 
docs  ; God  empowers  legislators,  and  ennobles  them  for 


THE  MYSTIC. 


275 


their  fidelity  ; let  them,  however,  be  apostles,  not  apos- 
tles’ representatives  ; men  of  God,  not  men  of  men  ; 
personal  elevation  is  our  credentials  ; personal  reform  is 
that  which  is  practicable,  and  without  it  our  efforts  on 
behalf  of  others  are  dreams  only.” 

No  remarks  from  Mr.  Alcott  are  recorded.  That 
the  meetings  satisfied  and  cheered  him  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  circumstance  that,  immediately  after 
his  return  from  England,  he  undertook  to  inaugurate 
the  ideal  social  state  at  Fruitlands — with  what  success 
we  know. 

In  1859,  Mr.  Alcott  had  another  and  larger  opportu- 
nity to  exercise  his  wisdom  as  an  educator  of  youth. 
He  was  chosen  superintendent  of  the  schools  of  Concord  ; 
a position  that  called  out  the  finest  qualities  of  his  mind, 
and  put  to  immediate  use  the  results  of  his  long  experience, 
but  relieved  him  from  the  business  arrangements  for  which 
he  had  never  displayed  an  aptitude.  The  three  brief 
but  remarkable  reports  that  he  made  on  the  condition 
and  needs  of  the  schools,  increase  one’s  respect  for  the 
workings  of  the  spiritual  philosophy  in  this  field  of  effort. 
If  the  suggestions  offered  in  those  reports  were  to  any 
considerable  extent  adopted,  if  the  noble  and  gracious 
spirit  of  them  was  felt,  the  schools  of  Concord  should  be 
model  schools  of  their  class. 

“ The  school  is  the  primary  interest  of  the  community. 
Every  parent  naturally  desires  a better  education  for  his 
children  than  he  received  himself,  and  spends  liberally 
of  his  substance  for  this  pleasure  ; wisely  hoping  to 
make  up  his  deficiencies  in  that  way,  and  to  complement 


2]6 


TRANS  CENDENTALISM. 


himself  in  their  better  attainments  ; esteeming  these  the 
richest  estate  lie  can  leave,  and  the  fairest  ornaments  of 
his  family  name.” 

“ Especially  have  I wished  to  introduce  the  young  to 
the  study  of  their  minds,  the  love  of  thinking  ; often 
giving  examples  of  lessons  in  analysis  and  classification 
of  their  faculties.  I think  I may  say  that  these  exercises 
have  given  much  pleasure,  and  have  been  found  profit- 
able alike  to  the  teacher  and  the  children.  In  most  in- 
stances, I have  closed  my  visits  by  reading  some  interest- 
ing story  or  parable.  These  have  never  failed  of  gaining 
attention,  and  in  most  cases,  prompt  responses.  I con- 
sider these  readings  and  colloquies  as  among  the  most 
profitable  and  instructive  of  the  superintendent’s  labors.” 

Pilgrim’s  Progress,  Krummacher’s  Parables,  yEsop’s 
Fables,  Faery  Queen,  the  stories  of  Plutarch  and  Shaks- 
peare,  were  his  favorites. 

“ The  graceful  exercise  of  singing  has  been  introduced 
into  some  of  the  schools.  It  should  prevail  in  all  of 
them.  It  softens  the  manners,  cultivates  the  voice,  and 
purifies  the  taste  of  the  children.  It  promotes  harmony 
and  good  feelings.  The  old  masters  thought  much  of  it 
as  a discipline.  ‘ Fet  us  sing  ’ has  the  welcome  sound  of 
‘ Fet  us  play,’ — and  is  perhaps  the  child's  prettiest  trans- 
lation of  ‘ Let  us  pray,’ — admitting  him  soonest  to  the 
intimacy  he  seeks.” 

“ Conversations  on  words,  paraphrases  and  transla- 
tions of  sentences,  are  the  natural  methods  of  opening  the 
study  of  language.  A child  should  never  be  suffered  to 
lose  sight  of  the  prime  fact  that  he  is  studying  the  real- 
ities of  nature  and  of  the  mind  through  the  picture  books 
of  language.  • Any  teaching  falling  short  of  this  is  hollow 
and  a wrong  done  to  the  mind.” 

“ For  composition,  let  a boy  keep  his  diary,  write  his 
letters,  try  his  hand  at  defining  from  a dictionary  and 
paraphrasing,  and  he  will  find  ways  of  expressing  himself 


THE  MYSTIC. 


277 


simply  as  boys  and  men  did  before  grammars  were 
invented.  ” 

“Teaching  is  a personal  influence  for  the  most  part, 
and  operating  as  a spirit  unsuspected  at  the  moment.  I 
have  wished  to  divine  the  secret  source  of  success 
attained  by  any,  and  do  justice  to  this  ; it  seemed  most 
becoming  to  regard  any  blemishes  as  of  secondary 
account  in  the  light  of  the  acknowledged  deserts.  We 
require  of  each  what  she  has  to  give,  no  more.  Does 
the  teacher  awaken  thought,  strengthen  the  mind,  kindle 
the  affections,  call  the  conscience,  the  common  sense 
into  lively  and  controlling  activity,  so  promoting  the  love 
of  study,  the  practice  of  the  virtues  ; habits  that  shall 
accompany  the  children  outwards  into  life  ? The  memory 
is  thus  best  cared  for,  the  end  of  study  answered  ; the  debt 
of  teacher  to  parents,  of  parents  to  teacher  discharged, 
and  so  the  State’s  bounty  best  bestowed.” 

“A  little  gymnasticon,  a system  of  gestures  for  the 
body  might  be  organized  skilfully  and  become  part  of 
the  daily  exercises  in  our  schools.  Graceful  steps,  pretty 
musical  airs,  in  accompaniment  of  songs — suiting  the 
sentiment  to  the  motions,  the  emotions,  ideas  of  the 
child — would  be  conducive  to  health  of  body  and  mind 
alike.  We  shall  adopt  dancing  presently  as  a natural 
training  for  the  manners  and  morals  of  the  young.” 

“ Conversation  is  the  mind’s  mouth-piece,  its  best 
spokesman  ; the  leader  elect  and  prompter  in. teaching; 
practised  daily,  it  should  be  added  to  the  list  of  school 
studies  ; an  art  in  itself,  let  it  be  used  as  such,  and  ranked 
as  an  accomplishment  second  to  none  that  nature 
or  culture  can  give.  Certainly  the  best  we  can  do  is  to 
teach  ourselves  and  children  how  to  talk.  Let  conver- 
sation displace  much  that  passes  current  under  the  name 
of  recitation  ; mostly  sound  and  parrotry,  a repeating  by 
rote  not  by  heart,  unmeaning  sounds  from  the  memory 
and  no  more.  ‘ Take  my  mind  a moment,’  says  the 
teacher,  ‘ and  see  how  things  look  through  that  prism,’ 
and  the  pupil  sees  prospects  never  seen  before  or  sur- 
mised by  him  in  that  lively  perspective.  So  taught  the 


273 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


masters  ; Plato,  Plutarch,  Pythagoras,  Pestalozzi  ; so 
Christianity  was  first  published  from  lovely  lips  ; so 
every  one  teaches  deserving  the  name  of  teacher  or  in- 
terpreter. Illustration  always  and  apt  ; life  calling  forth 
life;  the  giving  of  life  and  a partaking.  Nothing  should 
be  interposed  between  the  mind  and  its  subject  matter — 
cold  sense  is  impertinent  ; learning  is  insufficient — only 
life  alone  ; life  like  a torch  lighting  the  head  at  the 
heart.” 

“ Next  to  thinking  for  themselves,  the  best  service  any 
teacher  can  render  his  scholars  is  to  show  them  how  to 
use  books.  The  wise  teacher  is  the  key  for  opening  the 
mind  to  the  books  he  places  before  it.” 

“ Stories  are  the  idyls  of  childhood.  They  cast  about 
it  the  romance  it  loves  and  lives  in,  rendering  the  com- 
monest circumstances  and  things  invitipg  and  beautiful. 
Parables,  poems,  histories,  anecdotes,  are  prime  aids  in 
teaching  ; the  readiest  means  of  influence  and  inspira- 
tion ; the  liveliest  substitutes  for  flagging  spirits,  fatigued 
wits.” 

“ A little  atlas  of  the  body  mythologically  shown  from 
the  artist’s  points  of  view,  the  plates  displaying  the 
person  to  the  eye,  in  a set  of  draped  figures,  is  a book 
much  wanted  for  first  lines  in  drawing.  A child’s  piety 
is  seen  in  its  regards  for  its  body  and  the  concern  it 
shows  in  its  carriage  and  keeping.  Of  all  forms  the 
human  form  is  most  marvellous  ; and  the  modest  rever- 
ence for  its  shadings  intimates  the  proper  mode  of  study- 
ing it  rightly  and  religiously  as  a pantheon  of  powers. 
The  prime  training  best  opens  here  as  an  idealism,  the 
soul  fashioning  her  image  in  the  form  she  animates,  and 
so  scrutinizing  piously  without  plucking  the  forbidden 
fruits.” 

“ There  is  a want  of  suitable  aids  to  the  studies  of 
these  mysteries.  The  best  books  I know  are  poor 
enough.  In  the  want  of  a better,  we  name  for  the  study 
of  matter  in  its  connection  with  the  mind,  including  the 
proper  considerations  regarding  health  and  temperance, 
Graham’s  ‘Laws  of  Life,’  a rather  dull  but  earnest  book  ; 


THE  MYSTIC. 


279 

and  for  smaller  classes  and  beginners  Dr.  Alcott’s  ‘ House 
I Live  In.’  Miss  Catherine  Beecher’s  book  for  studies  in 
Physiology  and  Calisthenics,  is  a practical  treatise,  and 
should  be  in  all  schools.  Sir  John  Sinclair’s  ‘ Code  of 
Health  ’ contains  a republication  of  the  Wisdom  of  the 
Ancients,  on  these  subjects,  and  is  a book  for  all  per- 
sons and  times.” 

“ Perhaps  we  are  correcting  the  old  affection  for  flog- 
ging at  some  risk  of  spoiling  the  boys  of  this  generation. 
Girls  have  always  known  how  to  cover  with  shame  any 
insult  of  that  sort,  but  the  power  of  persuasion  comes 
slow  as  a promptitude  to  supersede  its  necessity.  Who 
deals  with  a child,  deals  with  a piece  of  divinity  obeying 
laws  as  innate  as  those  he  transgresses,  and  which  he 
must  treat  tenderly,  lest  he  put  spiritual  interests  in 
jeopardy.  Punishment  must  be  just,  else  it  cannot  be 
acced  ed  as  good,  and  least  of  all  by  the  wicked  and 
Weak. ” 

“ The  accomplished  teacher  combines  in  himself  the 
art  of  teaching  and  of  ruling  ; power  over  the  intellect 
and  the  will,  inspiration  and  persuasiveness.  And  this 
implies  a double  consciousness  in  its  possessor  that  car- 
ries forward  the  teaching  and  ruling  together  ; noting 
what  transpires  in  motive  as  in  act  ; the  gift  that  in  see- 
ing controls.  It  is  the  sway  of  presence  and  of  mien  ; a 
conversion  of  the  will  to  his  wishes,  without  which  other 
gifts  are  of  little  avail.” 

“ Be  sure  the  liveliest  dispensations,  the  holiest,  are  his 
(the  unruly  boy’s)— his  as  cordially  as  ours,  and  sought 
for  as  kindly.  We  must  meet  him  where  he  is.  Best  to 
follow  his  bent  if  bent  beautifully  ; else  bending  him 
gently,  not  fractiously,  lest  we  snap  or  stiffen  a stubborn- 
ness too  stiff  already.  Gentleness  now  ; the  fair  eye, 
the  conquering  glances  straight  and  sure  ; the  strong 
hand,  if  you  must,  till  he  fall  penitent  at  the  feet  of  Per- 
suasion ; the  stroke  of  grace  before  the  smiting  of  the 
birch  ; for  only  so  is  the  conquest  complete,  and  the 
victory  the  Lord’s.  If  she  is  good  enough  she  may 
strike  strong  and  frequent,  till  thanks  come  for  it  ; but 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


280 

who  is  she,  much  less  he,  that  dares  do  it  more  than 
once,  nor  repents  in  sorrow  and  shame  for  the  strokes 
given  ? Only  ‘ the  shining  ones’  may  do  it  for  good.” 

“ Our  teachers  open  their  schools  with  readings  from 
the  New  Testament,  and  this  reading  is  in  some  of  the 
schools,  and  would,  but  for  a diffident  piety,  be  followed 
in  all,  by  devotions  and  the  singing  of  some  suitable 
morning  hymn.  The  spoken  prayers  and  praises  are 
not  enjoined  by  our  rules  ; and  we  think  we  show  there- 
in that  tender  courtesy  to  the  faiths  of  the  heart  that  true 
piety  loves  and  cannot  overstep.  An  earnest  and  sweet 
disposition  is  the  spring  from  which  children  love  to 
taste,  and  best  always  if  insinuated  softly  in  mild  per- 
suasions, and  so  leading  to  the  practice  of  the  loves  and 
graces  that  soften  and  save.  A course  of  readings  from 
the  Picture  Testament  might  favor  the  best  ends  of  spir- 
itual culture.  A child  should  be  approached  with  rever- 
ence, as  a recipient  of  the  spirit  from  above.  The  best 
of  books  claims  the  best  of  persons  and  the  gracious  mo- 
ments to  make  its  meanings  clear  ; else  the  reading  and 
listening  are  but  a sound,  a pretence,  and  of  no  account. 
I have  wished  these  books  were  opened  with  the  awe 
belonging  to  the  eminent  Personalities  portrayed  there- 
in, thinking  them  best  read  when  the  glow  of  sentiment 
kindles  the  meaning  into  life  in  the  morning  hour — the 
teacher  opening  her  school  by  opening  their  leaves.” 

The  following  earnest  words  respecting  the  duties  of 
the  State  in  regard  to  the  education  of  its  children,  may 
fitly  close  these  fragmentary  extracts,  which  give  but 
the  scantiest  notions  of  the  richness  of  suggestion  in 
these  reports  : 

“ It  is  difficult  to  reach  the  sources  of  ignorance  and 
consequent  crime  in  a community  like  ours,  calling  itself 
free,  and  boasting  of  its  right  to  do  what  it  will.  But 
freedom  is  a social  not  less  than  an  individual  concern,  and 


THE  MYSTIC. 


281 


the  end  of  the  State  is  to  protect  it.  The  first  object  of 
a free  people  is  the  preservation  of  their  liberties.  It 
becomes,  then,  their  first  duty  to  assume  the  training  of 
all  the  children  in  the  principles  of  right  knowledge  and 
virtue,  as  the  only  safeguard  of  their  liberties.  We  can- 
not afford  to  wait  at  such  hazards.  The  simplest  hu- 
manities are  also  the  least  costly,  and  the  nearest  home. 
We  should  begin  there.  The  State  is  stabbed  at  the' 
hearth-side  and  here  liberty  and  honor  are  first  sold.  It 
is  injured  by  family  neglect,  and  should  protect  itself  in 
securing  its  children’s  virtue  against  their  parents’  vices ; 
for,  by  so  doing,  can  it  alone  redeem  its  pledges  to 
humanity  and  its  citizens’  liberties.  A virtuous  education 
is  the  greatest  alms  it  can  bestow  on  any  of  its  children.” 

Meetings  for  conversation  with  the  parents  of  the 
scholars  were  a device  of  Mr.  Alcott  for  bringing  the 
subject  of  education  home  to  those  whose  concern  in  it 
should  be  the  deepest. 

His  faith  was  from  the  first  in  conversation,  rather  than 
in  lecturing  or  in  preaching.  Preaching  assumed  too 
much  in  the  single  mind,  paid  less  than  due  respect  to 
the  minds  of  the  hearers,  and  gave  no  opportunity  for 
the  instant  exchange  of  thoughts.  Lecturing  was  in- 
tellectual and  even  less  sympathetic.  By  conversation 
the  best  was  drawn  out  and  the  best  imparted.  All 
were  put  on  an  equality;  all  were  encouraged,  none  op- 
pressed. 

“Truth,”  Mr.  Alcott  declares  “ is  spherical,  and  seen 
differently  according  to  the  culture,  temperament  and 
disposition  of  those  who  survey  it  from  their  individual 
standpoint.  Of  two  or  more  sides,  none  can  be  ab- 
solutely right,  and  conversation  fails  if  it  find  not  the 
central  truth  from  which  all  radiate  ; debate  is  angular, 


282 


TRA\TSCENDENTA  LISM. 


conversation  circular  and  radiant  of  the  underlying  unity. 
Who  speaks,  deeply  excludes  all  possibility  of  con- 
troversy. His  affirmation  is  self-sufficient  ; his  assump- 
tion final,  absolute.  Thus  holding  himself  above  the 
arena  of  dispute  he  gracefully  settles  a question  by 
speaking  so  home  to  the  core  of  the  matter  as  to  under- 
mine the  premise  upon  which  an  issue  had  been  taken. 
For  whoso  speaks  to  the  personality  dives  beneath  the 
grounds  of  difference,  and  deals  face  to  face  with  prin- 
ciples and  ideas.” 

“ Good  discourse  sinks  differences  and  seeks  agree- 
ments. It  avoids  argument,  by  finding  a common 
basis  of  agreement ; and  thus  escapes  controversy  by 
rendering  it  superfluous.  Pertinent  to  the  platform, 
debate  is  out  of  place  in  the  parlor.  Persuasion  is  the 
better  weapon  in  this  glittering  game.” 

“ Conversation  presupposes  a common  sympathy  in 
the  subject,  a great  equality  in  the  speakers  ; absence  of 
egotism,  a tender  criticism  of  what  is  spoken.  Good 
discourse  wins  from  the  bashful  and  discreet  what  they 
have  to  speak,  but  would  not,  without  this  provocation. 
The  forbidding  faces  are  Fates  to  overbear  and  blemish 
true  fellowship.  We  give  what  we  are,  not  necessarily 
what  we  know  ; nothing  more,  nothing  less,  and  only  to 
our  kind  ; those  playing  best  their  parts  who  have  the 
nimblest  wits,  taking  out  the  egotism,  the  nonsense, 
putting  wisdom,  information  in  their  place.” 


Mr.  Alcott  therefore  forsook  the  platform,  seldom 
entered  the  pulpit,  adopted  the  parlor,  and  made  it  what 
its  name  imports,  the  talking  place.  Collecting  a com- 
pany of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  larger  or  smaller,  as 
nearly  as  possible  of  similar  tastes  and  culture,  he  started  a 
topic  of  general  interest  and  broad  scope — usually  one  of 
social  concern  with  deep  roots  and  wide  branches, — and 
began  his  soliloquy  in  a calm  and  easy  strain,  throwing 


THE  MYSTIC. 


283 


out  suggestions  as  he  went  on,  and  enticing  thoughts 
from  the  various  minds  present.  If  none  responded  or 
accompanied,  the  discourse  proceeded  evenly  till  the 
measure  of  an  hour  was  filled.  If  the  company  was 
awake,  and  sympathetic,  the  soliloquy  became  conver- 
sation and  an  evening  full  of  instruction  and  entertain- 
ment followed.  When  circumstances  favored — the  room, 
decorations,  atmosphere,  mingling  of  elements — the  sea- 
son was  delightful.  The  unfailing  serenity  of  the  leader, 
his  wealth  of  mental  resource,  his  hospitality  of  thought, 
his  wit,  his  extraordinary  felicity  of  language,  his  deli- 
cacy of  touch,  ready  appreciation  of  different  views,  and 
^ singular  grace  in  turning  opinions  towards  the  light, 
made  it  clear  to  all  present  that  to  this  especial  calling 
he  was  chosen.  For  years  Mr.  Alcott’s  conversations 
have  been  a recognized  institution  in  Eastern  and  Western 
cities.  Every  winter  he  takes  the  field,  and  goes  through 
the  Northern  and  North  Western  States,  with  his  scheme 
of  topics.  The  best  minds  collect  about  him,  and  cen- 
tres of  influence  are  established  that  act  as  permanent 
distributors  of  culture.  The  noble  idealism  never  pales 
or  falters.  Neither  politics,  science,  financial  convul- 
sion, or  civil  war,  disturb  the  calm  serenity  of  the  soul 
, that  is  sure  that  mind  is  its  own  place,  and  that  infinite 
and  absolute  mind  is  supreme  above  all. 


THE  CRITIC. 


Margaret  Fuller — she  was  called  Ossoli  long  after 
the  time  we  are  concerned  with,  in  a foreign  land  and 
amid  foreign  associations — Margaret  Fuller  died  July 
1 6th,  1850.  In  1852  her  Memoirs  were  published  in 
Boston,  written  by  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  James  Free- 
man Clarke,  and  William  Henry  Channing  : each  giving 
an  individual  and  personal  account  of  her.  These  three 
gentlemen — all  remarkable  for  intellectual  capacity, 
sympathetic  appreciation,  and  literary  skill — undertook 
their  task  in  the  spirit  of  loving  admiration,  and  exe- 
cuted it  with  extraordinary  frankness,  courage  and  deli- 
cacy. No  more  unique  or  satisfactory  book  of  biogra- 
phy Avas  ever  made.  They  had  known  Margaret  per- 
sonally and  well  ; were  intimately  acquainted  with  her 
mind,  and  deeply  interested  in  her  character.  They 
had  access  to  all  the  necessary  materials.  The  whole 
life — inward  and  outward — was  open  to  them,  and  they 
described  it  with  no  more  reserve  than  good  taste  im- 
posed. Those  who  are  interested  to  know  what  sort 
of  a person  she  was,  are  referred  to  that  book,  from 


THE  CRITIC. 


285 


which  the  biographical  materials  for  this  little  sketch 
have,  in  the  main,  been  taken.  Her  place  here  is  due 
to  her  association  with  the  leaders  of  the  Transcen- 
dental movement,  and  to  the  peculiar  part  she  played 
in  it. 

Strictly  speaking,  she  was  not  a Transcendentalist, 
though  Mr.  Channing  declares  her  to  have  been  “in 
spirit  and  thought  pre-eminently  a transcendentalist 
and  Mr.  Alcott  wrote  that  she  adopted  “the  spiritual 
philosophy,  and  had  the  subtlest  perception  of  its  bear- 
ings.” She  was  enthusiastic  rather  than  philosophical, 
and  poetic  more  than  systematic.  Emerson’s  judgment 
is  that — 

“ Left  to  herself,  and  in  her  correspondence,  she  was 
much  the  victim  of  Lord  Bacon’s  idols  of  the  cave , or 
self-deceived  by  her  own  phantasms,  . . . . Her 

letters  are  tainted  with  aY  mysticism  which,  to  me,  ap- 
pears so  much  an  affair  of  constitution,  that  it  claims  no 
more  respect  than  the  charity  or  patriotism  of  a man 
who  has  dinech well  and  feels  better  for  it.  In  our  no- 
ble Margaret, /her  personal  feeling  colors  all  her  judg- 
ment of  persons,  of  books,  of  pictures,  and  even  of  the 
laws  of  the  world.  ....  Whole  sheets  of  warm, 
florid  writing  are-x here,  in  which  the  eye  is  caught  by 
‘ sapphire,’  ‘ heliotrope,’  ‘ dragon,’  ‘ aloes,’  ‘ Magna  Dea,’ 
‘ limboes,’  ‘ stars,’  and  ‘purgatory’ — but  one  can  con- 
nect all  this  or  any  part  of  it  with  no  universal  ex- 
perience. 

“ In  short,  Margaret  often  loses  herself  in 'sentiment- 
alism/- that  dangerous  vertigo  nature,  in  her  case,  adopt- 
ed, and  was  to  make  respectable Her  in- 

tegrity was  perfect,  and  she  was  led  and  followed  by 
love  ; and  was  really  bent  on  truth,  but  too  indulgent  tc- 
the  meteors  of  her  fancy.” 


286 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


She  said  of  herself : 

“ When  I was  in  Cambridge  I got  Fichte  and  Jacobi  ; 
I was  much  interrupted,  but  some  time  and  earnest 
thought  I devoted  ; Fichte  I could  not  understand  at 
all,  though  the  treatise  which  I read  was  one  intended 
to  be  popular,  and  which  he  says  must  compel  to  con- 
viction. Jacobi  I could  understand  in  details,  but  not 
in  system.  It  seemed  to  me  that  his  mind  must  have 
been  moulded  by  some  other  mind,  with  which  I ought 
to  be  acquainted,  in  order  to  know  him  well — perhaps 
Spinoza’s.  Since  I came  home  I have  been  consulting 
Buhle’s  and  Tennemann’s  histories  of  philosophy,  and 
dipping  into  Brown,  Stewart,  and  that  class  of  books.” 

This  was  in  1832,  before  the  transcendental  movement 
began.  At  the  same  period,  writing  to  a friend  on  the 
subject  of  religious  faith — a subject  intimately  allied  with 
philosophy — she  said  : 

r' 

1 “I  have  not  formed  an  opinion  ; I have  determined 
not  to  form  settled  opinions  at  present  ; loving  or  feeble 
natures  need  a positive  religion — a visible  refuge,  a pro- 
tection— as  much  in  the  passionate  season  of  youth  as 
in  those  stages  nearer  to  the  grave.  But  mine  is  not 
such.  My  pride  is  superior  to  any  feelings  I have  yet 
experienced  ; my  affection  is  strong  admiration,  not  the 
necessity  of  giving  or  receiving  assistance  or  sympathy. 
When  disappointed,  I do  not  not  ask  or  wish  consolation  , 
I wish  to  know  and  feel  my  pain,  to  investigate  its  na- 
ture and  its  source  ; I will  not  have  my  thoughts  di- 
verted or  my  feelings  soothed  ; ’tis  therefore  that  my 
young  life  is  so  singularly  barren  of  illusions.  I know  I 
feel  the  time  must  come  when  this  proud  and  impatient 
heart  shall  be  stilled,  and  turn  from  the  ardors  of  search 
and  action  to  lean  on  something  above.  But  shall  I say 
it  ? — the  thought  of  that  calmer  era  is  to  me  a thought 
of  deepest  sadness  ; so  remote  from  my  present  being 


THE  CRITIC. 


287 


is  that  future  existence,  which  still  the  mind  may  con- 
ceive /i  believe  in  eternal  progression  ; I believe  in  a 
God,  abeauty  and  perfection,  to  which  I am  to  strive 
all  my  life  for  assimilation.  From  these  two  articles  of 
belief  I draw  the  rules  by  which  I strive  to  regulate  my 
life  ;^but  though  I reverence  all  religions  as  necessary  to 
the  happiness  of  man,  I am  yet  ignorant  of  the  religion 
of  revelation/  Tangible  promises,  well-defined  hopes, 
are  things  of  which  I do  not  now  feel  the  need.  At 
present,  my  soul  is  intent  on  this  life,  and  I think  of  re- 
ligion as  its  rule  ; and  in  my  opinion  this  is  the  natural 
and  proper  course  from  youth  to  age.” 

The  tone  of  this  extract  is  negatively  transcendental  ; 
that  is,  it  implies  that  the  writer  did  not  belong  to  the 
opposite  school,  in  any  sense  ; and  that  her  mind  was  in 
condition  to  accept  the  cardinal  truths  of  a philosophy, 
the  special  doctrines  whereof  she  did  not  apprehend  or 
feel  interested  in.  Had  she  entertained  a philosophical 
creed,  it  would  have  been  the  creed  of  Schelling,  more 
likely  than  any  other. 

Margaret  Fuller  was  a critic,  and  a critic  rather  from 
natural  gift  than  from  trained  perception.  Her  genius 
was  her  guide.  Persons  and  things  came  to  her  for 
judgment,  and  judgment  they  received.  Searching  and 
frank,  but  hearty  and  loving,  she  judged  from  the  in- 
side. To  her,  so  her  biographers  tell,  with  unanimous 
voice,  “ the  secrets  of  all  hearts  were  revealed.”  In  pri- 
vate intercourse,  in  letters,  in  parlor  conversations  on 
books,  pictures,  statues,  architecture,  she  was  ever  the 
judge.  The  most  unlike  minds  and  characters  receive 
their  dues  with  entire  impartiality  ; Goethe,  Lessing, 
Novalis,  Jean  Paul,  were  each  in  kind  honored.  The 


288 


TRANS  CE N DENT  A L ISM. 


last  is  “ infinitely  variegated,  and  certainly  mbst  ex- 
quisitely colored,  but  fatigues  attention  ; his  phil- 
osophy and  religion  seem  to  be  of  the  sighing  sort.” 
She  is  steeped  to  the  lips  in  enjoyment  by  Southey, 
whom  she  was  inclined  to  place  next  to  Words- 
worth. Coleridge,  Heine,  Carlyle,  Herschel,  attract 
her  mind.  She  ponders  before  Michael  Angelo’s  sibyls  ; 
displays  a singular  penetration  in  her  analysis  of  them, 
and  makes  them  all  interpreters  of  the  genius  of 
woman.  The  soul  of  Greek  art,  as  contrasted  with 
Christian,  is  disclosed  to  her  with  a clear  perception  ; 
the  Greek  mythology  gave  up  to  her  its  secret ; em- 
blems, symbols,  dark  parables,  enigmas.,  mysteries,  laid 
aside  their  vails.  A friend  said  of  her  She  proceeds 
in  her  search  after  the  unity  of  things,  the  divine  har- 
mony, not  by  exclusion  but  by  comprehension  ; and  so 
no  poorest,  saddest. spirit  but  she  will  lead  to  hope  and 
faith.  I have  thought,  sometimes,  that  her^acceptance 
of  evil  was  too  great ; that  her  theory  of  the  good  to  be 
educed  proved  too  much  ; but  I understand  her  now 
better  than  I did.”  Atkinson,  the  “ mesmeric  atheist,” 
struck  her  as  “ a fine  instinctive  nature,  with  ahead  for 
Leonardo  to  paint,”  who  “ seems  bound  by  no  tie,  yet 
looks  as  if  he  had  relatives  in  every  place.”  Mazzini 
impressed  her  as  one  “ in  whom  holiness  has  purified, 
but  somewhat  dwarfed  the  man.”  Carlyle  “ is  arrogant 
and  overbearing  ; but  in  his  arrogance  there  is  no  bit- 
terness, no  self-love.  It  is  the  heroic  arrogance  of  some 
old  Scandinavian  conqueror  ; it  is  his  nature,  and  the  un- 
tamable energy  that  has  given  him  power  to  crush  the 


THE  CRITIC. 


289 


dragon.”  Dr.  Wilkinson,  the  Swedenborgian,  is  “ a 
sane,  strong,  well-exercised  mind  ; but  in  the  last  degree 
unpoetical  in  its  structure  ; very  simple,  natural,  and 
good  ; excellent  to  'see,  though  one  cannot  go  far  with 
him.”  Rachel,  Fourier,  Rousseau — she  has  a piercing 
glance  for  them  all ; a word  of  warm  admiration,  all  the 
more  weighty  for  being  qualified  by  criticism. 

It  was  probably  this  keen  penetration,  this  capacity  to 
appreciate  all  kinds,  this  inclusiveness  of  sympathy,  that 
prompted  the  selection  of  Margaret  Fuller  as  chief  editor 
of  the  “ Dial,”  the  organ  of  transcendental  thought. 
Thus  she  regarded  the  enterprise  : 

“ What  others  can  do — whether  all  that  has  been  said 
is  the  mere  restlessness  of  discontent,  or  there  are 
thoughts  really  struggling  for  utterance, — will  be  tested 
now.  A perfectly  free  organ  is  to  be  offered  for  the  ex- 
pression of  individual  thought  and.  character.  There 
are  no  party  measures  to  be  carried,  no  particular  stan- 
dards to  be  set  up  ; a fair,  calm  tone,  a recognition  of 
universal  principles,  will,  I hope,  pervade  the  essays  in 
every  form.  I trust  there  will  be  a spirit  neither  of  dog- 
matism nor  compromise,  and  that  this  journal  will  aim, 
not  at  leading  public  opinion,  but  at  stimulating  each 
man  to  judge  for  himself,  and  to  think  more  deeply  and 
more  nobly .^y  letting  him  see  how  some  minds  are 
kept  alive  by  a wise  self-trust."j>  We  must  not  be  san- 
guine at  the  amount  of  talent  which  will  be  brought  to 
bear  on  this  publication.  All  concerned  are  rather  in- 
different, and  there  is  no  great  promise  for  the  present. 
We  cannot  show  high  culture,  and  I doubt  about  vig- 
orous thought.  But  we  shall  manifest  free  action  as  far 
as  it  goes,  and  a high  aim.  It  were  much  if  a periodical, 
could  be  kept  open,  not  to  accomplish  any  outward  ob- 
ject, but  merely  to  afford  an  avenue  for  what  of  liberal 
13 


290 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


and  calm  thought  might  be  originated  among  us,  by  the 
wants  of  individual  minds.” 

“Mr.  Emerson  best  knows  what  he  wants;  but  he 
has  already  said  it  in  various  ways.  Yet  this  experiment 
is  well  worth  trying;  hearts  beat  so  high,  they  must  be 
full  of  something,  and  here  is  a way  to  breathe  it  out 
quite  freely.  It  is  for  dear  New  England  that  I want 
this  review.  For  myself,  if  I had  wished  to  write  a few 
pages  now  and  then,  there  were  ways  and  means  enough 
of  disposing  of  them.  But  in  truth  I have  not  much  to 
say  ; for  since  I have  had  leisure  to  look  at  myself,  I 
find  that,  so  far  from  being  an  original  genius,  I have 
not  yet  learned  to  think  to  any  depth,  and  that  the  utmost 
I have  done  in  life  has  been  to  form  my  character  to  a cer- 
tain consistency,  cultivate  my  tastes,  and  learn  to  tell 
the  truth  with  a little  better  grace  than  I did  at  first. 
For  this  the  world  will  not  care  much,  so  I shall  hazard 
a few  critical  remarks  only,  or  an  unpretending  chalk 
sketch  now  and  then  till  I have  learned  to  do  something. 
There  will  be  beautiful  poesies  ; about  prose  we  know 
not  yet  so  well.  We  shall  be  the  means  of  publishing 
the  little  Charles  Emerson  left  as  a mark  of  his  noble 
course,  and,  though  it  lies  in  fragments,  all  who  read 
will  be  gainers.” 


That  these  modest  anticipations  were  justified  and 
more,  need  not  be  said.  The  “ beautiful  poesies  ” came, 
and  so  did  the  various,  eloquent,  well-considered  prose. 
The  people  who  expected  the  whole  gospel  of  Trans- 
cendentalism may  have  been  disappointed  ; for  the 
editor  gave  the  magazine  more  of  a literary  than  philos- 
ophical or  reformatory  ton e.j  That  she  looked  for  from 
others,  and  was  more  than  willing  to  welcome.  She  had 
a discerning  eye  for  the  evils  of  the  time,  and  a sincere 
respect  for  the  men  and  women  who  were  disposed  to 


THE  CRITIC. 


29I 


counteract  them.  Another  extract  from  her  correspon- 
dence at  this  time — 1840—  taken,  like  the  former,  from 
the  second  volume  of  the  memoirs,  leaves  no  doubt  on 
this  point.  After  speaking  of  “the  tendency  of  cir- 
cumstances,” since  the  separation  from  England,  “ to 
make  our  people  superficial,  irreverent,  and  more  anx- 
ious to  get  a living  than  to  live^mentally  and  morally^7’ 
she  continues  : 

“New  England  is  now  old  enough,  some  there  have 
leisure  enough  to  look  at  all  this,  and  the  consequence 
is  a violent  reaction,  in  a small  minority,  against  a mode 
of  culture  that  rears  such  fruits.  They  see  that  political 
freedom  does  not  necessarily  produce  liberality  of 
mind,  nor  freedom  in  church  institutions,  vital  religion  ; 
and,  seeing  that  these  changes  cannot  be  wrought  from 
without  inwards,  they  are  trying  to  quicken  the  soul, 
that  they  may  work  from  within  outwards.  Disgusted  with 
the  vulgarity  of  a commercial  aristocracy,  they  become 
radicals  ; disgusted  with  the  materialistic  working  of 
“ rational  ” religion  they  become  mystics.  They  quarrel 
with  all  that  is  because  it  is  not  spiritual  enough.  They 
would,  perhaps,  be  patient,  if  they  thought  this  the 
mere  sensuality  of  childhood  in  our  nation,  which  it 
might  outgrow ; but  they  think  that  they  see  the  evil 
widening,  deepening,  not  only  debasing  the  life,  but 
corrupting  the  thought  of  our  people  ; and  they  feel  that 
if  they  know  not  well  what  should  be  done^yet  that  the 
duty  of  every  good  man  is  to  utter  a protest  against 
what  is  done  amiss^  Is  this  protest  undiscriminating  ? 
Are  these  opinions  crude  ? Do  these  proceedings  threaten 
to  sap  the  bulwarks  on  which  men  at  present  depend  ? 
I confess  it  all,  yet  I see  in  these  men  promise  of  a bet- 
ter wisdom  than  in  their  opponents.  ^ Their  hope  for 
man  is  grounded  on  his  destiny  as  an  immortal  soul,  and 
not  as  a mere  comfort-loving  inhabitant  of  earth,  or  as  a 


292 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


subscriber  to  the  social  contract.  It  was  not  meant  that 
the  soul  should  cultivate  the  earth,  but  that  the  earth 
should  educate  and  maintain  the  soul.  Man  is  not  made 
for  society,  but  society  is  made  for  man.  No  institution 
can  be  good  which  does  not  tend  to  improve  the  indi- 
vidual. In  these  principles  I have  confidence  so  pro- 
found, that  I am  not  afraid  to  trust  those  who  hold  them, 
despite  their  partial  views,  imperfectly  developed  char- 
acters, and  frequent  want  of  practical  sagacity.  I be- 
lieve, if  they  have  opportunity  to  state  and  discuss 
their  opinions,  they  will  gradually  sift  them,  ascertain 
their  grounds  and  aims  with  clearness,  and  do  the 
work  this  country  needs.  I hope  for  them  as  for 
the  ‘ leaven  that  is  hidden  in  the  bushel  of  meal  till  all 
be  leavened.’  The  leaven  is  not  good  by  itself,  neither 
is  the  meal ; let  them  combine,  and  we  shall  yet  have 
bread.” 

“ Utopia  it  is  impossible  to  build  up  ; at  least,  my 
hopes  for  the  race  on  this  one  planet  are  more  limited 
than  those  of  most  of  my  friends  ; I accept  the  limita- 
tions of  human  nature,  and  believe  a wise  acknowledg- 
ment of  them  one  of  the  best  conditions  of  progress  ; 
yet  every  noble  scheme,  every  poetic  manifestation, 
prophesies  to  man  his  eventual  destiny  ; and  were  not 
man  ever  more  sanguine  than  facts  at  the  moment  jus- 
tify, he  would  remain  torpid,  or  be  sunk  in  sensuality. 
Jt  is  on  this  ground  that  I sympathize  with  what  is 
called  the  ‘ Transcendental  Party,’  and  that  I feel  their 
aim  to  be  the  true  one.  They  acknowledge  in  the  na- 
ture of  man  an  arbiter  for  his  deeds — a standard  tran- 
scending sense  and  time — and  are,  in  my  view,  the  true 
utilitarians.  They  are  but  at  the  beginning  of  their 
course,  and  will,  I hope^learn  to  make  use  of  the  past, 
as  well  as  to  aspire  for  the  future,  and  to  be  true  in  the 
present  moment.” 


<^Iargaret  Fuller’s  power  lay  in  her  faith  in  this 
spiritual  capacity.  The  confidence  began  with  herself, 


THE  CRITIC. 


293 


and  was  extended  to  all  others,  without  exception.  Mr. 
Channing  says  : 

“ Margaret  cherished  a trust  in  her  powers,  a confi- 
dence in  her  destiny,  and  an  ideal  of  her  being,  place 
and  influence,  so  lofty  as  to  be  extravagant.  In  the 
morning  hour  and  mountain  air  of  aspiration,  her 
shadow  moved  before  her,  of  gigantic  size,  upon  the 
snow-white  vapor.” 

Mr.  Clarke  says  : 

“ Margaret’s  life  had  an  aim,  and  she  was,  therefore, 
essentially  a moral  person,  and  not  merely  an  overflow- 
ing genius,  in  whom  impulse  gives  birth  to  impulse, 
deed  to  deed.  This  aim  was  distinctly  apprehended 
and  steadily  pursued  by  her  from  first  to  last.  '^It  was  a 
high,  noble  one,  wholly  religious,  almost  Christian/’  It 
gave  dignity  to  her  whole  career,  and  made  it  heroic. 

“ This  aim,  from  first  to  last,  was  SELF-CULTURE.  Ifj 
she  was  ever  ambitious  of  knowledge  and  talent,  as  a; 
means  of  excelling  others,  and  gaining  fame,  position,;1 
admiration — this  vanity  had  passed  before  I knew  her, 
and  was  replaced  by  the  profound  desire  for  a full 
development  of  her  whole  nature,  by  means  of  a full 
experience  of  life.” 

Speaking  of  her  demands  on  others,  her  three  biog- 
raphers agree  that  they  were  based  on  the  expectation 
in  them  of  spiritual  excellence : 

^ One  thing  only  she  demanded  of  all  her  friends — 
that  they  should  have  some  ‘ extraordinary  generous 
seeking that  they  should  not  be  satisfied  with  the 
common  routine  of  life — that  they  should  aspire  to  some- 
thing higher,  better,  holier,  than  they  had  now  attained. 
Where  this  element  of  aspiration  existed,  she  demanded 


294 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


no  originality  of  intellect,  no  greatness  of  soul.  If  these 
were  found,  well  ; but  she  could  love,  tenderly  and 
truly,  where  they  were  not. 

“ She  never  formed  a friendship  until  she  had  seen 
and  known  this  germ  of  good,  and  afterwards  judged 
conduct  by  this,  y o this  germ  of  good,  to  this  highest 
law  of  each  individual,  she  held  them  true. 

“ Some  of  her  friends  were  young,  gay,  and  beauti- 
ful ; some  old,  sick,  or  studious  ; some  were  children  of 
the  world,  others  pale  scholars;  some  were  witty,  others 
slightly  dull  ; but  all,  in  order  to  be  Margaret’s  friends, 
must  be  capable  of  seeking  something- — capable  of  some 
aspiration  for  the  better.  And  how  did  she  glorify  life 
to  all  ! All  that  was  tame  and  common  vanishing  away 
in  the  picturesque  light  thrown  over  the  most  familiar 
things  by  her  rapid  fancy,  her  brilliant  wit,  her  sharp 
insight,  her  creative  imagination,  by  the  inexhaustible 
resources  of  her  knowledge,  and  the  copious  rhetoric, 
which  found  words  and  images  always  apt  and  always 
ready.” 

“ Margaret  saw  in  each  of  her  friends  the  secret  inte- 
rior capability,  which  might  be  hereafter  developed  into 
some  special  beauty  or  power.  By  means  of  this  pene- 
trating, this  prophetic  insight,  she  gave  each  to  himself, 
acted  on  each  to  draw  out  his  best  nature  ; gave  him  an 
ideal,  out  of  which  he  could  draw  strength  and  liberty, 
hour  by  hour.  Thus  her  influence  was  ever  ennobling, 
and  each  felt  that  in  her  society  he  was  truer,  wiser, 
better,  and  yet  more  free  and  happy  than  elsewhere. 
The  ‘ dry  light,’  which  Lord  Bacon  loved,  she  never 
knew  : her  light  was  life,  was  love,  was  warm  with  sym- 
pathy and  a boundless  energy  of  affection  and  hope. 
Though  her  love  flattered  and  charmed  her  friends,  it 
did  not  spoil  them,  for  they  knew  her  perfect  truth ; 
they  knew  that  she  loved  them,  not  for  what  she  ima- 
gined, but  for  what  she  saw,  though  she  saw  it  only  in 
the  germ.  But  as  the  Greeks  beheld  a Persephone  and 
Athene  in  the  passing  stranger,  and  ennobled  humanity 
into  ideal  beauty,  Margaret  saw  all  her  friends  thus 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


2 95 


idealized  ; she  was  a balloon  of  sufficient  power  to  take 
us  all  up  with  her  into  the  serene  depth  of  heaven, 
where  she  loved  to  float,  far  above  the  low  details  of 
earthly  life  ; earth  lay  beneath  us  as  a lovely  picture— its 
sounds  came  up  mellowed  into  music.” 

“Margaret  was,*  to  persons  younger  than  herself,  a 
Makaria  and  Natalia.  She  was  wisdom  and  intellectual 
beauty,  filling  life  with  a charm  and  glory  ‘ known  to 
neither  sea  nor  land.’  ‘Yl'o  those  of  her  own  age,  she  was 
sibyl  and  seer, — a prophetess,  revealing  the  future^ 
pointing  the  path,  opening  their  eyes  to  the  great  aims 
only  worthy  of  pursuit  in  life.  To  those  older  than  her- 
self, she  was  like  the  Euphorion  in  Goethe’s  drama, 
child  of  Faust  and  Helen, — a wonderful  union  of  exuber- 
ance and  judgment,  born  of  romantic  fulness  and  classic 
limitation.  They  saw  with  surprise  her  clear  good  sense, 
balancing  her  flow  of  sentiment  and  ardent  courage. 
They  saw  her  comprehension  of  both  sides  of  every 
question,  and  gave  her  their  confidence,  as  to  one  of 
equal  age,  because  of  so  ripe  a judgment.” 

“ An  interview  with  her  was  a joyous  event ; worthy 
men  and  women  who  had  conversed  with  her,  could  not 
forget  her,  but  worked  bravely  on  in  the  remembrance  that 
this  heroic  approver  had  recognized  their  aims.  She 
spoke  so  earnestly,  that  the  depth  of  the  sentiment  pre- 
vailed, and  not  the  accidental  expression,  which  might 
chance  to  be  common.  Thus  I learned  the  other  day, 
that  in  a copy  of  Mrs.  Jameson's  ‘ Italian  Painters,’ 
against  a passage  describing  Coreggio  as  a true  servant 
of  God  in  his  art,  above  sordid  ambition,  devoted  to 
truth,  ‘ one  of  those  superior  beings  of  whom  there  are 
so  few  ;’  Margaret  wrote  on  the  margin  : ‘ And  yet  all 
might  be  such.’  The  book  lay  long  on  the  table  of  the 
owner,  in  Florence,  and  chanced  to  be  read  there  by  an 
artist  of  much  talent.  ‘ These  words  ’ said  he,  months 
afterwards,  ‘struck  out  a new  strength  in  me.  They  re- 
vived resolutions  long  fallen  away,  and  made  me  set  my 
face  like  a flint.’  ” 

“ ' Yes,  my  life  is  strange  ;’  she  said,  * thine  is  strange. 


2C)6 


THE  CRITIC. 


We  are,  we  shall  be,  in  this  life,  mutilated  beings,  but 
there  is  in  my  bosom  a faith,  that  I shall  see  the  reason  ; a 
glory,  that  I can  endure  to  be  so  imperfect ; and  a feeling, 
ever  elastic,  that  fate  and  time  shall  have  the  shame  and 
the  blame,  if  I am  mutilated.  I will  do  all  I can, — and 
if  one  cannot  succeed,  there  is  a beautv  in  martyr- 
dom.’ ” 

“ ‘ Would  not  genius  be  common  as  light  if  men  trusted 
their  higher  selves  ? ’ ” 

“ She  won  the  confidence  and  affection  of  those  who 
attracted  her,  by  unbounded  sympathy  and  trust.  She 
probably  knew  the  cherished  secrets  of  more  hearts  than 
any  one  else,  because  she  freely  imparted  her  own. 
With  a full  share  both  of  intellectual  and  of  family  pride, 
she  preeminently  recognized  and  responded  to  the  essen- 
tial brotherhood  of  all  human  kind,  and  needed  but  to 
know  that  a fellow  being  required  her  counsel  or  assist- 
ance, to  render  her  not  merely  willing,  but  eager  to  im- 
part it.  Loving  ease,  luxury,  and  the  world’s  good 
opinion,  she  stood  ready  to  renounce  them  all,  at  the 
call  of  pity  or  of  duty.  I think  no  one,  not  radically 
averse  to  the  whole  system  of  domestic  servitude,  would 
have  treated  servants,  of  whatever  class,  with  such  uni- 
form and  thoughtful  consideration — a regard  which 
wholly  merged  their  factitious  condition  in  their  ante- 
cedent and  permanent  humanity.  I think  few  servants 
ever  lived  weeks  with  her,  who  were  not  dignified  and 
lastingly  benefited  by  her  influence  and  her  counsels. 
They  might  be  at  first  repelled,  by  what  seemed  her  too 
stately  manner  and  exacting  disposition,  but  they  soon 
learned  to  esteem  and  love  her. 

“ I have  known  few  women,  and  scarcely  another 
maiden,  who  had  the  heart  and  the  courage  to  speak  with 
such  frank  compassion,  in  mixed  circles,  of  the  most 
degraded  and  outcast  portion  of  the  sex.  The  contem- 
plation of  their  treatment,  especially  by  the  guilty  au- 
thors of  their  ruin,  moved  her  to  a calm  and  mournful 
indignation,  which  she  did  not  attempt  to  suppress 
nor  control.,  Others  were  willing  to  pity  and  de- 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


297 


plore ; Margaret  was  more  inclined  to  vindicate  and  to 
redeem. 

“ ‘ In  the  chamber  of  death,’  she  wrote,  ‘ I prayed  in 
very  early  years  : “ Give  me  truth  ; cheat  me  by  no  illu- 
sion.” O,  the  granting  of  this  prayer  is  sometimes  ter- 
rible to  me  ! I walk  over  burning  ploughshares,  and 
they  sear  my  feet ; yet  nothing  but  truth  will  do  ; no 
love  will  serve  that  is  not  eternal,  and  as  large  as  the 
universe  ; no  philanthropy,  in  executing  whose  behests  I 
myself  become  unhealthy  ; no  creative  genius  which 
bursts  asunder  my  life,  to  leave  it  a poor  black  chrysalid 
behind  ; and  yet  this  last  is  too  true  of  me.’  ” 

Margaret  Fuller  did  justice  to  the  character  of 
Fourier,  admired  his  enthusiasm,  honored  his  devotion, 
acknowledged  the  terrible  nature  of  the  evils  he  gave 
the  study  of  a life-time  to  correct,  and  paid  an  unstint- 
ing tribute  to  the  disinterested  motives  that  impelled 
him  ; but  with  his  scheme  for  refashioning  society  she 
had  no  sympathy.  William  H.  Channing  was  an  inti- 
mate friend,  whose  sincerity  had  her  deepest  respect, 
whose  enthusiasm  won  her  cordial  admiration  ; she  lis- 
tened to  his  brilliant  expositions  of  socialism,  but  was  not 
persuaded.  Practical  difficulties  always  appeared,  and 
she  never  could  believe  that  any  rearrangement  of  cir- 
cumstances would  effect  the  regeneration  of  mankind. 
She  was  acquainted  from  the  first  with  the  experiment 
of  Brook  Farm  ; knew  the  founders  of  it  ; watched 
with  genuine  solicitude  the  inauguration  of  the  scheme 
and  its  fortunes  ; talked  over  the  principles  and  details 
of  it  with  the  leading  spirits  ; visited  the  community  ; 
examined  for  herself  the  working  of  the  plan  ; gave  her 
talent  to  the  entertainment  and  edification  of  the  asso- 

13* 


298 


THE  CRITIC. 


ciates  ; discerned  with  clear  eye  the  distinctions  between 
this  experiment  and  those  of  European  origin  ; but  still 
questioned  the  practical  wisdom  of  the  institution,  and 
declined  to  join  the  fraternity,  even  on  the  most  flatter- 
ing terms,  for  the  reason  that,  interested  as  she  was  in 
the  experiment,  it  was,  in  her  judgment,  too  purely  an 
experiment  to  be  personally  and  practically  sanctioned 
by  one  who  had  no  more  faith  in  its  fundamental  prin- 
ciples than  she. 

She  -was  not  to  be  thrown  off  from  her  essential  posi- 
tion, the  primacy  and  all  sufficiency  of  the  soul.  No 
misery  or  guilt  daunted  her,  no  impatience  at  slowness 
tempted  her  to  resort  to  artificial  methods  of  cure.  Her 
visit  to  Sing  Sing,  and  her  intercourse  with  the  aban- 
doned women  there  was  exceedingly  interesting  in  this 
view. 

“ * They  listened  with  earnest  attention,  and  many  were 
moved  to  tears.  I never  felt  such  sympathy  with  an  audi- 
ence as  when,  at  the  words  “ Men  and  Brethren,”  that 
sea  of  faces,  marked  with  the  scars  of  every  ill,  were  up- 
turned, and  the  shell  of  brutality  burst  apart  at  the 
touch  of  love.  I knew  that  at  least  heavenly  truth  would 
not  be  kept  out  by  self  complacence  and  dependence  on 
good  appearances.  . . . These  women  were  among 

the  so-called  worst,  and  all  from  the  lowest  haunts  of  vice. 
Yet  nothing  could  have  been  more  decorous  than  their 
conduct,  while  it  was  also  frank  ; and  they  showed  a 
sensibility  and  sense  of  propriety  which  would  not  have 
disgraced  any  society.’  ” 

“ She  did  not  hesitate  to  avow  that,  on  meeting  some 
of  these  abused,  unhappy  sisters,  she  had  been  surprised 
to  find  them  scarcely  fallen  morally  below  the  ordinary 
standard  of  womanhood, — realizing  and  loathing  their 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


299 

debasement ; anxious  to  escape  it;  and  only  repelled  by 
the  sad  consciousness  that  for  them  sympathy  and 
society  remained  only  so  long  as  they  should  persist  in 
the  ways  of  pollution.” 

Margaret  Fuller’s  loyalty  to  principles  was  proof 
against  bad  taste  ; which  is  saying  a good  deal,  for  many 
a reformer  is  of  opinion  that  blunders  are  worse  than 
crimes,  and  that  vulgarity  is  more  offensive  than  wicked- 
ness. She  found  the  Fourierites  in  Europe  terribly  weari- 
some, and  yet  did  not  forget  that  they  served  the  great 
future  which  neither  they  nor  she  would  live  to  see.  At 
home  she  could  not  endure  the  Abolitionists — “they 
were  so  tedious,  often  so  narrow,  always  so  rabid  and 
exaggerated  in  their  tone.  But,  after  all,  they  had  a 
high  motive,  something  eternal  in  their  desire  and  life  ; 
and  if  it  was  not  the  only  thing  worth  thinking  of,  it 
was  really  something  worth  living  and  dying  for,  to  free 
a great  nation  from  such  a blot,  such  a plague.”  In 
Europe  she  was  disgusted  at  hearing  Americans  urging 
the  same  arguments  against  the  freedom  of  the  Italians 
that  they  urged  at  home  against  the  emancipation  of 
the  blacks  ; the  same  arguments  in  favor  of  the  spoli- 
ation of  Poland  that  they  used  at  home  in  favor  of  the 
conquest  of  Mexico.  With  her^principles  were  indepen- 
dent of  time  and  place^  She  always  believed  in  liberty 
as  a condition  of  enlightenment,  and  in  enlightenment  as 
a condition  of  progress.  </This  practical  faith  in  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  nature  is  the  key  to  all  her  work> 
Every  chamber  that  opened  she  entered  and  occupied, 
fearless  of  ghosts  and  goblins.  The  chambers  that 


3oo 


THE  CRITIC. 


opened  not  she  was  content  to  leave  unopened  alto- 
gether. 

On  the  table  where  the  writer  pens  this  poor  tribute 
to  a most  remarkable  woman,  are  the  bulky  volumes  of 
her  unpublished  letters  and  diaries,  revealing  some  things 
too  personal  for  the  public  eye,  but  nothing  in  the  least 
incongruous  with  the  best  things  recorded  by  her  bio- 
graphers and  suggested  here  ; and  how  much  they  tell 
that  illustrates  and  confirms  the  moral  nobleness  and 
sweetness  of  her  nature.  They  contain  a psychometric 
examination  from  two  letters,  given  after  the  manner 
familiar  to  those  interested  in  such  things,  by  one  of  the 
chief  of  these -spiritual  vaticinators.  We  shall  not  trans- 
cribe it,  for  it  is  long  and  indistinct.  The  indistinctness 
is  the  one  interesting  feature  of  the  sketch.  The  sensi- 
tive reporter  confessed  herself  put  out  by  the  singular 
commingling  of  moods  and  dispositions,  and  seemed  to 
be  describing  several  persons  in  one.  But  through  them 
all  the  same  general  impression  was  clear  ; the  impres- 
sion of  a fascinating,  lovable,  earnest  and  lofty  spirit, 
which,  whether  sad  or  gay,  intellectual  or  sentimental, 
bore  itself  like  a queenly  woman. 

When  the  news  of  her  death  reached  Boston,  one  of 
Boston’s  eminent  men  in  letters  and  public  affairs  quietly 
remarked  : “ it  is  just  as  well  so.”  He  was  thinking  of 
the  agitation  she  might  cause  by  her  brilliant  conversa- 
tions and  her  lightning  pen,  if  she  brought  back  from 
her  Italian  heroisms  the  high  spirit  of  liberty.  The 
times  were  growing  dark  in  America.  The  Slave  Power 
was  drawing  its  lines  closer  about  the  citadel  of  freedom. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


3ox 


The  brave  voices  were  few  and  fewer ; the  conservatives 
were  glad  when  one  was  hushed  by  death.  The  move- 
ment she  had  encouraged  was  waning.  The  high  en- 
thusiasm was  smouldering  in  breasts  that  anticipated  the 
battle  which  came  ten  years  later.  The  period  of  poetic 
aspiration  and  joy  was  ended,  and  the  priestess,  had 
she  survived,  would  have  found  a deserted  shrine. 

No  accessible  portrait  of  Margaret  Fuller  exists,  that 
worthily  presents  her.  Thomas  Hicks  painted  a like- 
ness, of  cabinet  size,  in  Rome,  which  her  friends  ap- 
proved. The  daguerreotype  was  too  painfully  literal  to 
be  just  ; the  sun  having  no  sentiment  or  imagination  in  his 
eye.  She  was  not  beautiful  in  youth,  nor  was  she  one 
of  those  who  gain  beauty  with  years.  Her  physical  at- 
tractions were  of  the  kind  that  time  impairs  soon,  and 
though  she  died  at  forty,  her  personal  charm  was  gone. 
Intellect  gave  her  what  beauty  she  had,  and  they  saw  it 
who  saw  her  intellect  at  play.  Her  image,  therefore,  is 
best  preserved  in  the  memory  of  her  friends.  They 
cannot  put  it  on  exhibition. 


XII. 


THE  PREACHER, 

Transcendentalism  is  usually  spoken  of  as  a philo- 
. sophy.  It  is  more  justly  regarded  as  a gospel.  As  a 
^philosophy  it  is  abstract  and  difficult — purely  meta- 
physical in  character,  resting  on  no  basis  of  observed 
and  scientifically-proven  fact,  but  on  the  so-called  data 
of  consciousness,  which  cannot  be  accurately  defined, 
distinctly  verified,  or  generally  recommended.  It  must 
be,  therefore,  inexact  and  inconclusive  ; so  far  from  uni- 
form in  its  structure,  that  it  may  rather  be  considered 
^everal  systems  than  one.  As  a gospel,  it  possesses  all 
ft  he  qualities  desirable  for  effect.  It  is  worth  remarking 
Chat  its  chief  disciples  have  been  clergymen.  In  Ger- 
many,  Schleiermacher — if  we  may  count  him  a Transcen- 
dentalist ; he  was  the  author  of  the  doctrine,  that  the 
essence  of  religion  consisted  in  the  sense  of  dependence, 
which  figured  largely  in  the  sermons  of  New  England 
divines — was  a clergyman  ; Fichte  assumed  the  pro- 
phetic tone  ; the  German  professors  associated  religious 
teaching  with  the  duties  of  their  chairs.  In  England, 
Coleridge  was  a preacher  by  practice,  and,  part  of  his 
life,  by  profession  ; Carlyle  was  never  anything  else,  his 
essays  and  even  his  histories  being  sermons  in  disguise, 


THE  PREACHER. 


and  disguise  of  the  most  transparent  sort.  In  New^ 
England,  Emerson  began  his  career  as  a Unitarian  min- 
ister ; so  did  Walker ; so  did  Ripley;  so  did  W.  H. 
Channing  ; so  did  J.  S.  Dwight  ; so  did  C.  P.  Cranch. 
Dr.  Channing,  a Transcendentalist  without  knowing-  :iA 
was  the  greatest  preacher  of  his  generation.  Brownson 
was  a preacher  of  all  orders  in  succession  ; Bartol 
preaches  still  ; Clarke  preaches  still.  Of  the  younger 
men,  Johnson,  Longfellow,  Wasson,  Higginson,  are,  or 
were,  Unitarian  clergymen.  Alcott  is  a preacher  with- 
out a pulpit.  The  order  of  mind  that  was  attracted  to  ' 
the  ministry  was  attracted  to  the  Transcendental  ideas. 

The  explanation  is  easy  ; Transcendentalism  possessed 
all^the  chief  qualifications  for  a gospel.  Its  cardinal 
“ facts  ” were  few  and  manageable.  Its  data  were  se- 
cluded in  the  recesses  of  consciousness,  out  of  the  reach 
of  scientific  investigation,  remote  from  the  gaze  of  vul- 
gar skepticism  ; esoteric,  having  about  them  the  charm 
of  a sacred  privacy,  on  which  common  sense  and  the 
critical  understanding  might  not  intrude.  Its  oracles 
proceeded  from  a shrine,  and  were  delivered  by  a priest 
or  priestess,  who  came  forth  from  an  interior  holy  of 
holies  to  utter  them,  and  thus  were  invested  with  the  air 
of  authority  which  belongs  to  exclusive  and  privileged 
truths,  that  revealed  themselves  to  minds  of  a contem- 
plative cast.  It  dealt  entirely  with  “ divine  things,’"’  j 
“eternal  realities;”  supersensible  forms  of  thought; 
problems  that  lay  out  of  the  reach  of  observation,  such 
as  the  essential  cause,  spiritual  laws,  the  life  after  death, 
the  essence  of  the  good,  the  beautiful,  the  true ; the 


3°  4 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


ideal  possibilities  of  the  soul;  its  organ  was  intuition; 
/ its  method  was  introspection  : its  brightness  was  inspira- 
' \ tion.  It  possessed  the  character  of  indefiniteness  and 
mystery,  full  of  sentiment  and  suggestion,  that  fascinates 
the  imagination,  and  lends  itself  so  easily  to  acts  of  con- 
templation and  worship.  The  German  Mystics  were  in 
spirit  Transcendentalists.  The  analogies  are  close  be- 
tween Boehme  and  Schelling ; between  Eckardt  and 
Fichte  ; Frederick  Schlegel  had  much  in  common  with 
Boehme  ; Coleridge  acknowledged  his  debt  to  him  and 
to  other  Mystics  ; even  Hegel  ran  in  line  with  them  on 
some  of  his  high  roads.  Minds  as  opposite  as  Alcott 
and  Parker  met  in  communion  here — Alcott  going  to 
the  Mystics  for  inspiration  ; Parker  resorting  to  them 
for  rest.  The  Mystics  were  men  of  feeling  ; the  Trans- 
cendentalists were  men  of  thought  : but  thought  and 
feeling  sought  the  same  object  in  the  same  region. 
j*""Pie  ty  was  a feature  of  Transcendentalism;  it  loved  de- 
vout hymns,  music,  the  glowing  language  of  aspiration, 
the  moods  of  awe  and  humility,  emblems,  symbols,  ex- 
pressions of  inarticulate  emotion,  silence,  contemplation, 
breathings  after  communion  with  the  Infinite.  The 
poetry  of  Transcendentalism  is  religious,  with  scarcely 
an  exception  ; the  most  beautiful  hymns  in  our  sacred 
collections,  the  only  deeply  impressive  hymns,  are  by 
transcendental  writers. 

(This  was  the  aspect  of  Transcendentalism  that  fas- 
cinated Theodore  Parker.  His  intellect  was  constructed 
on  the  English  model.  His  acute  observation  ; his  pas- 
sion for  external  facts  ; his  faith  in  statistics  ; his  hun- 


THE  PREACHER. 


305 


ger  for  information  on  all  external  topics  of  history  and 
politics  ; his  capacity  for  retaining  details  of  miscellane- 
ous knowledge  ; his  logical  method  of  reasoning  ; his 
ability  to  handle  masses  of  raw  mental  material,  to  dis- 
tribute and  classify ; — all  indicate  intellectual  power  of  the 
English  rather  than  of  the  German  type.  It  was  his  cus,- 
tom  to  speak  slightingly  of  the  “Bridgewater  Treatises” 
and  works  of  a similar  class,  in  which  the  processes  of 
inductive  argument  are  employed  to  establish  truths  of 
the  “ Pure  Reason  but  he  easily  fell  into  the  same 
habit,  and  pushed  the  inductive  method  as  far  as  it 
would  go.  His  discourses  on  Providence,  the  Economy 
of  Pain  and  Misery,  Atheism,  Theism,  in  the  volume 
entitled  “Theism,  Atheism,  and  The  Popular  Theology,” 
are  quite  in  the  style  of  the  “ Bridgewater  Treatises.” 
Parker  .was,  in  many  respects,  the  opposite  of  a Mystic; 
he  was  a realist  of  the  most  concrete  description,  entirely 
at  home  among  sensible  things,  a good  administrator,  a 
safe  investor  of  moneys,  a wise  counsellor  in  practical 
affairs.  But  along  with  this  intellectual  quality  which 
he  inherited  from  his  father,  was  an  interior,  sentimen- 
tal, devotional  quality,  derived  from  his  mother.  The 
two  were  never  wholly  blended  ; often  they  were  wide 
apart,  occupying  different  spheres,  and  engaged  in  dif- 
ferent offices  ; sometimes  they  were  in  apparent  opposi- 
tion. Neither  could  subdue  or  overshadow  the  other  ; 
neither  could  keep  the  other  long  in  abeyance.  As  a 
lule,  the  dominion  was  divided  between  them  : the  prac- 
tical understanding  assumed  control  of  all  matters  per- 
taining to  this  world  ; the  higher  reason  claimed  su- 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


306 

premacy  in  all  matters  of  faith.  But  for  the  tendency 
to  poetic  idealism,  which  came  to  him  from  his  mother, 
Parker  might,  from  the  constitution  of  his  mind,  have 
belonged  to  an  opposite  school.  A passage  in  the  letter 
from  Santa  Cruz,  entitled  “Theodore  Parker’s  Experi- 
ence as  a Minister,”  is  curious,  as  showing  how  the  two 
tendencies  of  his  mind  overlapped  ; he  is  speaking  of 
the  two  methods  of  developing  the  contents  “ of  the  in- 
stinctive intuitions  of  the  divine,  the  just,  and  the  im- 
mortal,”— the  inductive  and  the  deductive.  After  a few 
words  respecting  the  inductive  method  of  gathering 
facts  from  the  history  of  mankind,  he  speaks  thus  of  the 
deductive  : “ Next,  from  the  primitive  facts  of  con- 

sciousness given  by  the  power  of  instinctive  intuition,  I 
endeavored  to  deduce  the  true  notion  of  God,  of  justice, 
and  futurity.”  Then,  forgetting  that  the  power  of  in- 
stinctive intuition  must  be  self-authenticating — cannot, 
at  any  rate,  be  authenticated  by  miscellaneous  facts  in 
the  religious  history  of  mankind — he  continues  : 

“ To  learn  what  I could  about  the  spiritual  faculties 
of  man,  I not  only  studied  the  sacred  books  of  various 
nations,  the  poets  and  philosophers  who  professedly 
treat  thereof,  but  also  such  as  deal  with  sleep-walking, 
dreams,  visions,  prophecies,  second-sight,  oracles,  ecsta- 
sies, witchcraft,  magic-wonders,  the  appearance  of 
devils,  ghosts,  and  the  like.  Besides,  I studied  other 
works  which  lie  out  from  the  regular  highway  of  theol- 
ogy ; the  spurious  books  attributed  to  famous  Jews  and 
Christians  ; Pseudepigraphy  of  the  Old  Testament, 
and  the  Apocrypha  of  the  New  ; with  the  strange  fanta- 
sies of  the  Neoplatonists  and  Gnostics.” 

Very  important  reading  all  this  for  one  who  studied 


THE  PREACHER. 


3°  7 


to  qualify  himself  to  instruct  his  fellow  men  in  the  natu- 
ral history  of  the  world’s  religions  ; but  not  so  valuable  as 
illustrating  the  “ instinctive  intuitions  of  human  nature.” 
Kant,  Fichte,  Schelling,  Hegel,  Boehme,  Eckardt,  never 
worked  by  that  method,  which  may  properly  be  called 
the  method  of  Sensationalism  applied  to  Transcendental- 
ism. Parker,  on  the  religious  side,  was  a pure  Trans-7 
cendentalist  without  guile,  accepting  the  transcendental 
ideas  with  no  shadow  of  qualification  ; stating  them  with^ 
the  concrete  sharpness  of  scientific  propositions,  and 
applying  them  with  the  exactness  of  mathematical  prin- 
ciples. He  took  them  as  he  found  them  in  the  writings 
of  the  great  German  thinkers ; shaped  them  as  he,  bet- 
ter than  any  body  else,  could  shape  thought  in  form  of 
words, — as  he  shaped  the  formula  of  republican  govern- 
ment— “ government  of  the  people,  by  the  people,  for 
the  people  ” — from  the  looser  statement  of  Daniel  Web-’ 
ster, — and  laid  them  down  as  corner-stones  of  a new 
theological  structure.  The  materials  were  furnished  by 
Schleiermacher,  Spinoza,  Jacobi,  Schelling  ; the  archi- 
tectural skill  was  his  own.  Consciousness  he  did  not 
undertake  to  analyze  ; the  “ facts  of  consciousness  ” he 
took  on  others’  verification  ; their  spiritual  import  he 
perceived,  developed  and  applied.  Transcendentalism  | 
put  into  his  hands  the  implements  he  was  in  special 
need  of. 

It  is  not  easy  to  determine  the  precise  period  at  which 
Parker  fully  accepted,  with  all  its  consequences,  the 
transcendental  philosophy.  He  was  not  a Transcenden-  j 
talist — not  distinctly  and  avowedly  one — at  the  time  of 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


3°S 

his  ordination,  in  1837  ; he  clearly  was  in  1840,  the  date 
\ of  the  Levi  Blodgett  letter,  which  contains  the  most 
\ thorough-going  statement  of  the  transcendental  idea  to 
/ be  found  in  any  single  tractate.  The  probability  is,  that 
he  always  was  one  in  sentiment,  and  became  more  and 
more  consciously  one  in  thought,  as  he  found  it  neces- 
sary to  shift  his  position  in  order  to  save  his  faith.  So 
long  as  the  beliefs  he  cherished  seemed  to  be  satisfac- 
torily supported  on  the  old  grounds,  he  was  content  ; 
but  as  the  old  grounds,  one  after  another,  gave  way,  the 
beliefs  were  transferred  to  the  keeping  of  new  princi- 
ples. Then  the  sentiments  of  his  youth  hardened  into 
ideas  ; the  delicate  creatures  that  lived  and  gleamed  be- 
neath the  waters  of  faith’s  tropical  ocean,  became  reefs 
of  white  stone,  that  lifted  their  broad  surface  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,  and  offered  immovable  support  to  hu- 
man habitations. 

Parker  was,  more  than  anything,  a preacher  ; — preacher 
more  than  theologian,  philosopher  or  scholar.  What- 
ever else  he  was,  contributed  to  his  greatness  in  this. 
He  had  a profuse  gift  of  language  ; expression  was  a 
necessity  to  him ; his  thoughts  came  swiftly,  and  clothed 
in  attractive  garments  ; he  had  wit,  and  he  had  humor  ; 
laughter  and  tears  were  equally  at  his  command.  His 
resources  of  illustration,  drawn  from  history,  literature, 
biography,  nature,  were  simply  inexhaustible  ; the  fruits 
of  enormous  reading  were  at  the  immediate  disposal  of  a 
memory  that  never  lost  a trifle  of  the  stores  committed 
to  it.  The  religious  emotions  were  as  genuine  with  him 
as  they  were  quick,  and  as  deep  as  they  were  glowing : 


THE  PREACHER. 


3°9 


the  human  sympathies  were  wide  as  the  widest,  and 
tender  as  the  tenderest.  He  had  the  power  of  persua- 
sion and  of  rebuke,  a withering  sarcasm,  a winning  com- 
passion. His  indignation  at  wrong  was  not  so  qualified 
by  sentimental  regard  for  the  wrong  doer  that  invective 
was  wasted  on  lifeless  abstractions,  nor  was  his  judg- 
ment of  evil  doers  so  austere  that  wickedness  escaped  by 
being  made  incredible.  It  cannot  be  said  of  anybody  that 
he  has  been  able  to  discriminate  nicely,  in  hours  of 
moral  feeling,  between  wrong  doers  and  wrong  deeds  ; 
that  cannot  be  done  in  the  present  state  of  psychological 
science.  We  simply  do  not  know  what  the  limits  of 
personal  responsibility  are  ; how  much  power  is  entrusted 
to  the  will ; how  much  allowance  is  to  be  made  for  tem- 
perament and  circumstance ; at  what  point  the  individual 
is  detached  from  the  mass  of  mankind,  and  constituted 
an  accountable  person.  Parker  was  guilty,  as  others  are 


for  sins  of  their  generation,  and  for  vices  transmitted 
with  their  blood  ; conscience  and  charity  were  occasion- 
ally at  issue  with  him  ; but  if  righteousness  was  be- 
trayed into  intemperance  of  zeal,  peace  made  haste  to 
offer  its  kiss  of  sorrow,  and  unaffected  tears  damped 
down  the  flames  of  wrath  when  they  threatened  to  con- 
sume the  innocent.  This  two-fold  power  of  blasting" 
and  of  blessing,  was  vastly  effective  both  on  large  audi- 
ences and  bn" small.  The  personal  integrity  which  no 
one  ever  doubted,  the  courage  which  was  evident  to 
even  hasty  observers,  the  mental  independence  which 
justified  the  boldness  of  its  position  by  an  indefatigable 


of  personal  injustice  in  holding  individuals  answerable 


3io 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


purpose  to  discover  truth,  were  prime  qualifications  for 
the  office  he  filled.  The  very  disadvantages, — an  un- 
heroic presence,  an  uninspired  countenance,  an  unmelo- 
dious  and  unpliable  voice,  the  necessity  of  interposing 
glasses  between  his  clear  blue  eyes  and  his  audience, 
and  thus  veiling  the  heavens  that  lay  behind  them, — 
helped  him  by  putting  out  of  mind  all  thought  of  mere- 
tricious attempts  at  influence,  and  compelling  recognition 
of  the  intellectual  and  moral  force  which  could  so  easily 
dispense  with  what  most  orators  consider  invaluable 
aids. 

All  that  Parker  had  went  into  his  preaching ; the 
wealth  of  his  library,  the  treasures  of  his  heart,  the 
sweetness  of  his  closet  meditations,  the  solemnity  of  his 
lonely  musings.  But  it  was  not  this  that  gave  him  his 
great  power  as  a preacher.  That,  we  are  persuaded,  was 
due  in  chief  part  to  the  earnestness  of  his  faith  in  the 
transcendental  philosophy.  How  cordially  he  enter- 
tained that  faith,  what  to  him  it  signified  in  politics, 
ethics,  religion,  may  be  learned  by  any  who  will  take 
pains  to  read  a lecture  by  him  on  Transcendentalism, 
recently  published  by  the  Free  Religious  Association. 
That  he  ascribed  the  popular  interest  in  his  preach- 
ing to  his  philosophical  ideas  will  not  perhaps  be 
accepted  as  evidence  on  the  point,  for  men  are  apt 
to  be  mistaken  in  regard  to  the  sources  of  their 
power  ; but  it  is  interesting  as  a testimony  to  his  own 
belief,  to  know  that  he  did  so.  In  a sermon  preached 
on  November  14th,  1852,  the  occasion  being  his  leaving 
the  Mclodeon  for  the  Music  Hall,  he  presents  first  the 


THE  PREACHER. 


31 1 


current  modes  of  accounting  for  his  success,  and  then 
his  own. 

“ The  first  reason  assigned  for  the  audience  coming  to- 
gether was  this  : they  came  from  vain  curiosity,  having 
itching  ears  to  hear  ‘ what  this  babbler  sayeth.’ 

“ Then  it  was  said,  men  came  here  because  I taught 
utter  irreligion,  blank  immorality  ; that  I had  no  love 
of  God,  no  fear  of  God,  no  love  of  man  : and  that  you 
thought,  if  you  could  get  rid  of  your  conscience  anc?. 
soul,  and  trample  immortality  under  foot,  and  were- 
satisfied  there  was  no  God,  you  should  have  a very  nice- 
time  of  it  here  and  hereafter. 

“ Then  it  was  declared  that  I was  a shrewd,  practical: 
man,  perfectly  well  ‘posted  up’  in  every  thing  that 
took  place  ; knew  how  to  make  investments  and  get 
very  large  returns, — unluckily  it  has  not  been  for  my- 
self that  this  has  been  true.  And  it  was  said  that  I col- 
lected large  headed,  practical  men  to  hear  me,  and  that 
you  were  a ‘ boisterous  assembly.’ 

“ Then,  that  I was  a learned  man  and  gave  learned  dis- 
courses on  ecclesiastical  history  or  political  history, — 
things  which  have  not  been  found  very  attractive  in  the 
churches  hitherto. 

“ Again,  that  I was  a philosopher,  with  a wise  head, 
and  taught  men  theological  metaphysics  ; and  so  a large 
company  of  men  seemed  all  at  once  smitten  with  a 
panic  for  metaphysics  and  abstract  preaching.  It  was. 
never  so  before. 

“ Next  it  was  reported  that  I was  a witty  man,  and  shot 
nicely  feathered  arrows  very  deftly  into  the  mark  ; and 
that  men  came  to  attend  the  sharp  shooting  of  a wit. 

“ Then  there  was  a seventh  thing, — that  I was  an  elo- 
quent man  ; and  I remember  certain  diatribes  against  the 
folly  of  filling  churches  with  eloquence. 

“ Then  again,  it  was  charged  against  me  that  I was  a 
philanthropist,  and  taught  the  love  of  men,  but  did  not 
teach  at  all  the  love  of  God  ; and  that  men  really  loved 
to  love  one  another,  and  so  came. 


3IZ 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


“ Then  it  was  thought  that  I was  a sentimentalist,  and 
tickled  the  ears  of  ‘ weak  women,’  who  came  to  delight 
themselves  and  be  filled  full  of  poetry  and  love. 

“The  real  thing  they  did  not  seem  to  hit;  that  I 
preached  an  idea  of  God,  of  man  and  of  religion,  which 
commended  itself  to  the  nature  of  mankind.” 

The  great  preacher  is  always  an  idealist,  and  accord- 
ing to  the  fervor  of  his  idealism  is  he  great.  This  was 
the  source  of  Channing’s  power ; it  was  the  charm  of 
Emerson’s.  In  reply  to  a friend  who  questioned  her  as 
to  the  nature  of  the  benefits  conferred  on  her  by  Mr. 
Emerson’s  preaching,  Margaret  Fuller  wrote  : 

“ His  influence  has  been  more  beneficial  to  me  than 
that  of  any  American,  and  from  him  I first  learned  what 
is  meant  by  an  inward  life.  Many  other  springs  have 
since  fed  the  stream  of  living  waters,  but  he  first  opened 
the  fountain.  That  the  ‘ mind  is  its  own  place  ’ was  a 
dead  phrase  to  me  till  he  cast  light  upon  my  mind. 
Several  of  his  sermons  stand  apart  in  memory,  like 
landmarks  of  my  spiritual  history.  It  would  take  a 
volume  to  tell  what  this  one  influence  did  for  me.” 

Mr.  Parker’s  ministry  had  three  periods,  in  each  of 
which  the  ideal  element  was  the  attraction.  The  first 
was  the  period  of  quiet  influence  in  West  Roxbury, 
where  the  stream  of  his  spiritual  life  flowed  peacefully 
through  green  pastures,  and  enriched  simple  hearts  with 
its  unintermitted  current.  Accounts  agree  that  at  this 
time  there  was  a soul  of  sweetness  in  his  preaching,  that 
was  a good  deal  more  than  the  body  of  its  thought. 
The  second  was  the  period  at  the  Boston  Melodeon,  the 
first  of  his  experience  before  the  crowd  of  a metropolis. 


THE  PREACHER. 


3T3 


This  was  7the  controversial  epoch,  and,  from  the  nature 
of  the  case,  was  largely  polemical  and  negative  as  to- 
wards the  popular  theology.  But  even  then  the  strain 
of  spiritual  faith  was  heard  above  the  din  of  battle,  and 
souls  that  were  averse  to  polemics  were  fed  by  the  en- 
thusiasm that  came  from  the  inner  heights  of  aspiration. 
The  last  period  was  that  of  the  Music  Hall — the  famous 
period.  Then  the  faith  was  defined  and  formulated  ; 
the  corner-stones  were  hewn  and  set ; the  fundamental 
positions  were  announced  with  the  fidelity  of  iteration 
that  was  customary  with  the  “ painful  preachers  of  the 
Word”  in  churches  where  people  were  duly  stretched 
upon  the  Five  Points  of  Calvin.  The  three  cardinal  at- 
testations of  the  universal  human  consciousness — 

The  Absolute  God, 

The  Moral  Law, 

The  Immortal  Life, 

were  asseverated  with  all  the  earnestness  of  the  man, 
and  declared  to  be  the  constituent  elements  of  the  Rock 
of  Ages. 

Standing  on  this  tripod,  Parker  spoke  as  one  having 
authority;  he  judged  other  creeds — Orthodox,  Uni- 
tarian, Scientific — with  the  confidence  of  one  who  felt 
that  he  had  inspiration  on  his  side.  It  was  difficult  for 
him  to  understand  how,  without  his  faith,  others  could 
be  happy.  The  believers  in  tradition  seemed  to  him 
people  who  walked  near  precipices,  leaning  on  broken 
reeds  ; the  unbelievers  were  people  who  walked  near 
the  same  precipices,  with  bandaged  eyes. 

14 


3X4 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


“ If  to-morrow  I am  to  perish  utterly,  then  I shall 
only  take  counsel  for  to-day,  and  ask  for  qualities  which 
last  no  longer.  My  fathers  will  be  to  me  only  as  the 
ground  out  of  which  my  bread-corn  is  grown  ; dead, 
they  are  like  the  rotten  mould  of  earth,  their  memory 
of  small  concern  to  me.  Posterity — I shall  care  nothing 
for  the  future  generations  of  mankind.  I am  one  atom 
in  the  trunk  of  a tree,  and  care  nothing  for  the  roots 
below  or  the  branches  above  ; I shall  sow  such  seed  as 
will  bear  harvest  to-day  ; I shall  know  no  higher  law  ; 
passion  enacts  my  statutes  to-day  ; to-morrow  ambition 
revises  the  statutes,  and  these  are  my  sole  legislators  ; 
morality  will  vanish,  expediency  take  its  place  ; heroism 
will  be  gone,  and  instead  of  it  there  will  be  the  br-ute 
valor  of  the  lie-wolf,  the  brute-cunning  of  the  she-fox, 
the  rapacity  of  the  vulture,  and  the  headlong  daring  of 
the  wild  bull  ; but  the  cool,  calm  courage  which,  for 
truth’s  sake,  and  for  love’s  sake,  looks  death  firmly  in 
the  face,  and  then  wheels  into  line,  ready  to  be  slain — 
that  will  be  a thing  no  longer  heard  of.” 

“The  atheist  sits  down  beside  the  coffin  of  his  only 
child — a rose-bud  daughter,  whose  heart  death  slowly 
ate  away  ; the  pale  lilies  of  the  valley  which  droop  with 
fragrance  above  that  lifeless  heart,  are  flowers  of  mock- 
ery to  him,  their  beauty  is  a cheat  ; they  give  not  back 
his  child,  for  whom  the  sepulchral  monster  opens  his  re- 
morseless jaws.  The  hopeless  father  looks  down  on  the 
face  of  his  girl,  silent- — -not  sleeping,  cold — dead.  . 

He  looks  beyond — the  poor  sad  man — it  is  only  solid 
darkness  he  looks  on  ; no  rainbow  beautifies  that  cloud  ; 
there  is  thunder  in  it,  not  light  ; night  is  behind — with- 
out a star.” 


This  is  the  way  the  Protestant  Christians  spoke  of 
him  ; the  “ Evangelicals  ” spoke  thus  of  the  Unitarians  ; 
the  believers  in  miraculous  revelations  spoke  thus  of  the 
rationalists.  They  that  are  sure  always  speak  so  of 


THE  PREACHER . 


3r5 

those  who,  in  their  judgment,  have  no  right  to  be  sure 
at  all. 

Yet  Parker  had  a hospitable  mind,  and  his  hospitality 
was  due  also  to  his  faith.  The  spiritual  philosophy 
which  maintained  the  identity  in  all  men  of  conscious- 
ness, and  tire  eternal  validity  of  its  promises,  which  no 
error  or  petulance  could  discredit,  was  indulgent  to  the 
unfortunates  who  had  not  the  satisfaction  of  its  assur- 
ance. It  pitied,  but  did  not  reproach  them.  They 
were  children  of  God  no  less  for  being  ignorant  of  their 
dignity.  It  was  impossible  for  Parker  to  believe  that 
rational  beings  could  be  utterly  insensible  to  the  essen- 
tial facts  of  their  own  nature.  Their  error,  misconcep- 
tion, misconstruction,  to  whatever  cause  due,  could  be 
no  more  than  incidental.  Skepticism  might  make  wild 
work  of  definitions,  but  ultimate  facts  it  could  never 
disturb  ; these  would  thrust  themselves  up  at  last,  as  in- 
evitably as  the  rocky  substratum  of  the  globe  presents 
itself  in  the  green  field.  In  a thanksgiving  sermon  he 
thanked  God  that  atheism  could  freely  deliver  its  creed 
and  prove  that  it  was  folly.  He  was  persuaded  that  the 
disbelievers  believed  better  than  they  knew  ; in  their 
paroxysms  of  denial,  he  saw  the  blind  struggles  of  faith  ; 
he  gave  the  enemies  of  religion  credit  for  qualities  that 
made  their  hostility  look  like  a heroic  protest  against 
the  outrages  inflicted  in  the  name  of  religion  upon  reli- 
gion itself. 

“ It  is  a fact  of  history,  that  in  old  time,  from  Epi- 
curus to  Seneca,  some  of  the  ablest  heads  and  best 
hearts  of  Greece  and  Rome  sought  to  destroy  the  idea 


316 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


of  immortality.  This  was  the  reason : they  saw  it 
was  a torment  to  mankind  ; that  the  popular  notion  of 
immortality  was  too  bad  to  be  true  ; and  so  they  took 
pains  to  break  down  the  Heathen  Mythology,  though 
with  it  they  destroyed  the  notion  of  immortal  life.  They 
did  a great  service  to  mankind  in  ridding  us  from  this 
yoke  of  fear. 

“ Many  a philosopher  has  seemed  without  religion, 
even  to  a careful  observer — sometimes  has  passed  for  an 
atheist.  Some  of  them  have  to  themselves  seemed 
without  any  religion,  and  have  denied  that  there  was 
any  God  ; but  all  the  while  their  nature  was  truer  than 
their  will ; their  instinct  kept  their  personal  wholeness 
better  than  they  were  aware.  These  men  loved  absolute 
truth,  not  for  its  uses,  but  for  itself ; they  laid  down 
their  lives  for  it,  rather  than  violate  the  integrity  of  their 
intellect.  They  had  the  intellectual  love  of  God,  though 
they  knew  it  not,  though  they  denied  it. 

“ I have  known  philanthropists  who  undervalued 
piety  ; they  liked  it  not — they  said  it  was  moonshine, 
not  broad  day  ; it  gave  flashes  of  lightning,  all  of  which 
would  not  make  light.  . . . Yet  underneath  their 

philanthropy  there  lay  the  absolute  and  disinterested 
love  of  other  men.  They  knew  only  the  special  form, 
not  the  universal  substance  thereof. 

“ Men  of  science,  as  a class,  do  not  war  on  the  truths, 
the  goodness  and  the  piety  that  are  taught  as  religion, 
only  on  the  errors,  the  evil,  the  impiety  which  bear  its 
name.  Science  is  the  natural  ally  of  religion.  Shall 
we  try  and  separate  what  God  has  joined  ? We  injure 
both  by  the  attempt.  The  philosophers  of  this  age 
have  a profound  love  of  truth,  and  show  great  industry 
and  boldness  in  search  thereof.  In  the  name  of  truth 
they  pluck  down  the  strongholds  of  error — venerable 
and  old. 

“ All  the  attacks  made  on  religion  itself  by  men  of 
science,  from  Celsus  to  Feuerbach,  have  not  done  so 
much  to  bring  religion  into  contempt  as  a single  perse- 


THE  PREACHER. 


3*7 


cution  for  witchcraft,  or  a Bartholomew  massacre  made 
in  the  name  of  God.” 

Parker  had  human  sympathies  strong  and  deep,  and 
could  never  have  been  indifferent  to  the  pains  and  misery 
of  his  fellow  creatures ; yet  these  sympathies  owed  their 
persistency,  their  endurance,  and  their  indomitable 
sweetness,  to  the  spiritual  faith  which  he  professed.  He 
had  a passionate  head-strong  nature  ; he  knew  the 
charm  of  pleasant  looks,  congenial  companions,  elegant 
and  luxurious  circumstances.  His  love  of  leisure  was 
keen  ; it  was  the  desire  of  his  life  to  enjoy  the  scholar’s 
privilege  of  uninterrupted  hours,  in  the  delicious  seclu- 
sion of  the  library.  With  a different  philosophy  he 
would  have  been  a very  different  man.  The  creed  he 
held  made  self-indulgence  impossible. 

“ I have  always  taught,”  he  said — in  a sermon  before 
quoted,  the  last  he  preached  in  the  Melodeon — “ that 
the  religious  faculty  is  the  natural  ruler  in  all  the  com- 
monwealth of  man  ; the  importance  of  religion,  and  its 
commanding  power  in  every  relation  of  life.  This  is 
what  I have  continually  preached,  and  some  of  you  will 
remember  that  the  first  sermon  I addressed  to  you  was  on 
this  theme  : — The  absolute  necessity  of  religion  for  safely 
conducting  the  life  of  the  individual,  and  the  life  of  the 
State.  You  knew  very  well  I did  not  begin  too  soon  ; 
yet  I did  not  then  foresee  that  it  would  soon  be  denied  in 
America,  in  Boston,  that  there  was  any  law  higher 
than  an  Act  of  Congress.”  The  allusion  is  to  the  Fu- 
gitive Slave  Bill  then  recently  enacted,  which  brought 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


31 8 

to  a close  issue  the  controversy  between  the  Abolition- 
ists and  the  Government,  and  imposed  on  Mr.  Parker 
and  the  rest  who  felt  as  he  did,  duties  of  watchfulness 
and  self-denial,  that  for  years  put  to  flight  all  thoughts 
of  personal  ease. 

He  continues  : 


“ Woman  I have  always  regarded  as  the  equal  of  man 
— more  nicely  speaking,  the  equivalent  of  man  ; supe- 
rior in  some  things,  inferior  in  some  others  ; inferior  in 
the  lower  qualities,  in  bulk  of  body  and  bulk  of  brain  ; 
superior  in  the  higher  and  nicer  qualities — in  the  moral 
power  of  conscience,  the  loving  power  of  affection,  the 
religious  power  of  the  soul ; equal  on  the  whole,  and  of 
course  entitled  to  just  the  same  rights  as  man  ; the  same 
rights  of  mind,  body  and  estate  ; the  same  domestic,  so- 
cial, ecclesiastical,  and  political  rights  as  man,  and  only 
kept  from  the  enjoyment  of  these  by  might,  not  right ; 
yet  herself  destined  one  day  to  acquire  them  all.” 


r 


The  belief  in  the  spiritual  eminence  of  woman  was 
part  of  the  creed  of  the  Transcendentalist  ; it  was  inti- 
mately connected  with  his  reverence  for  interior,  poetic, 
emotional  natures  ; with  his  preference  for  feeling  above 
thought,  of  spontaneity  above  will.  In  the  order  of 
rank,  Parker  assigned  the  first  place  to  the  “ religious 
faculty,”  as  he  termed  it,  which  gave  immediate  vision  of 
spiritual  truth  ; the  second  place  was  given  to  the  affec- 
tions ; conscience  he  ranked  below  these  ; and  lowest  of 
all  stood  the  intellect.  The  rational  powers  were  held 
subordinate  to  the  instinctive,  or  rather  the  rational  and 
the  instinctive  were  held  to  be  coincident.  The  femin- 
ine characteristic  being  affection,  which  is  spontaneous. 


THE  PREACHER. 


319 

and  the  masculine  being  intellect,  which  is  not,  the  / 
feminine  was  set  above  the  masculine — love  above  light, 
pity  above  justice,  sympathy  above  rectitude,  compas-  \ 
sion  above  equity.  Parker  had  feminine  attributes,  and 
was  slightly  enamored  of  them ; thought,  or  tried  to 
think  them  the  glory  of  his  manhood  ; but  the  mascu- 
line greatly  predominated  in  him.  To  people  in  general 
he  seemed  to  reverse  his  own  order,  in  practice.  Weak, 
dependent,  dreamy  men  he  had  no  patience  with  ; sen- 
timentalism was  his  aversion  ; the  moral  element  alone 
commanded  his  absolute  respect.  Masculine  women 
were  equally  distasteful ; while  he  admired  the  genius 
of  Margaret  Fuller,  his  personal  attraction  toward  her 
seldom  brought  him  into  her  society.  That  a man  con- 
stituted as  he  was,  self-reliant  to  aggressiveness,  inclined 
to  be  arbitrary,  dogmatical,  and  imperious,  of  prodi- 
gious force  of  will  and  masterly  power  of  conscience, 
entered  as  he  did  into  advocacy  of  the  rights  of  the 
African  and  the  prerogatives  of  woman,  is  evidence  of 
the  whole-heartedness  with  which  he  adopted  the  trans- 
cendental philosophy.  It  was,  indeed,  a faith  to  him, 
that  ruled  his  life  and  appointed  his  career.  It  gave 
him  his  commission  as  prophet,  reformer,  philanthropist. 

It  was  the  consecrating  oil  that  sanctified  him,  from  the 
crown  of  his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  feet. 

Parker  believed  in  the  gospel  of  Transcendentalism, 
and  was  fully  persuaded  that  it  was  to  be  the  gospel  of 
the  future.  “ The  religion  I preach,”  he  was  accustomed 
to  say,  “ will  be  the  religion  of  enlightened  men  for  the^ 
next  thousand  years.”  He  anticipated  an  earthly  im- 


32° 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


mortality  for  his  thought,  an  extensive  circulation  of  his 
books,  a swift  course  for  his  word,  among  the  people. 
The  expectation  seemed  not  unreasonable  twenty  years 
ago. 

The  prediction  has  not  thus  far  been  justified.  Parker 
died  in  i860,  on  the  eve  of  the  civil  war,  which  he  prog- 
nosticated, sixteen  years  ago.  The  war  fairly  ended, 
efforts  were  made  to  revive  the  prophet’s  memory  and 
carry  out  the  cherished  purpose  of  his  heart.  But  their 
ill  success  has  gone  far  to  prove — what  needed  no  evi- 
dence— that  prophecies  may  fail,  and  tongues  cease  and 
knowledge  pass  away.  The  philosophy  that  Parker  com- 
bated and  ridiculed  and  cast  scorn  at,  declared  to  be  self- 
refuted  and  self-condemned,  has  revived  under  a new 
name,  as  the  “ philosophy  of  experience,”  is  professed 
by  the  ablest  thinkers  of  the  day,  taught  in  high  places, 
in  the  name  of  science,  set  forth  as  the  hope  of  man  ; the 
creeds  he  pronounced  irrational,  and  fancied  to  be  obsolete 
still  hold  nominal  sway  over  the  minds  of  men  ; the 
Christianity  of  the  letter  and  the  form  is  the  only  Christian- 
ity that  is  officially  acknowledged  ; the  gospel  is  an  insti- 
tution still,  not  a faith  ; revivalism  has  the  monopoly  of 
religious  enthusiasm  ; preaching  is  giving  place  to 
lecturing  ; the  pulpit  has  been  taken  down  ; science 
alone  is  permitted  to  speak  with  authority  ; — literature, 
journalism,  politics,  trade,  attract  the  young  men  that 
once  sought  the  ministry ; the  noble  preachers  of  a 
noble  gospel  are  the  few  remaining  idealists,  who  have 
kept  the  faith  of  their  youth  ; they  are  growing  old  ; 
one  by  one  they  leave  their  place,  and  there  are  none 


THE  PREACHER. 


321 


like  them  to  fill  it.  Parker  was  one  of  the  last  of  the 
grand  preachers  who  spoke  with  power,  bearing  com- 
mission from  the  soul.  The  commissions  which  the  soul 
issues  are,  for  the  time  being,  discredited,  and  discredited 
they  will  be,  so  long  as  the  ideal  philosophy  is  an  out- 
cast among  men.  Should  that  philosophy  revive,  the 
days  of  great  preaching  will  return  with  it.  Bibles  will 
be  read  and  hymns  sung,  and  sermons  delivered  to 
crowds  from  pulpits.  The  lyceum  and  the  newspaper 
will  occupy  a subordinate  position  as  means  of  social 
and  moral  influence,  and  the  prophets  will  recover  their 
waning  reputation.  Until  then,  the  work  they  did 
when  living  must  attest  their  greatness  with  such  as  can 
estimate  it  at  its  worth. 


XIII. 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

The  man  who  was  as  influential  as  any  in  planting  the 
seeds  of  the  transcendental  philosophy  in  good  soil,  and 
in  showing  whither  its  principles  tended,  is  known  now, 
and  has  from  the  first  been  known,  chiefly  as  a man  of 
letters,  a thoughtful  observer,  a careful  student  and  a 
serious  inquirer  after  knowledge.  George  Ripley,  one 
year  older  than  Emerson,  was  one  of  the  forerunners  and 
prophets  of  the  new  dispensation.  He  was  by  tempera- 
ment as  well  as  by  training,  a scholar,  a reader  of  books, 
a discerner  of  opinions,  a devotee  of  ideas.  A mind  of 
such  clearness  and  serenity,  accurate  judgment,  fine 
taste,  and  rare  skill  in  the  use  of  language,  written  and 
spoken,  was  of  great  value  in  introducing,  defining  and 
interpreting  the  vast,  vague  thoughts  that  were  burning 
in  the  minds  of  speculative  men.  He  was  one  of  the 
first  in  America  to  master  the  German  language  ; and, 
his  bent  of  mind  being  philosophical  and  theological,  he 
became  a medium  through  which  the  French  and  Ger- 
man thought  found  its  way  to  New  England.  He  was 
an  importer,  reader  and  lender  of  the  new  books  of  the 
living  Continental  thinkers.  His  library  contained  a 
rich  collection  of  works  in  philosophy,  theology,  hermen 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 


323 


eutics,  criticism  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  and 
divinity  in  its  different  branches  of  dogmatics  and  sen- 
timent. He  was  intimate  with  N.  L.  Frothingham  and 
Convers  Francis,  the  admirable  scholar,  the  hospitable 
and  independent  thinker,  the  enthusiastic  and  humane 
believer,  the  centre  and  generous  distributor  of  copious 
intellectual  gifts  to  all  who  came  within  his  reach.  Theo- 
dore Parker  was  the  intellectual  product  of  these  two 
men,  Convers  Francis  and  George  Ripley.  The  former 
fed  his  passion  for  knowledge  ; the  latter,  at  the  period 
of  his  life  in  the  divinity  school,  gave  direction  to-  his 
thought.  The  books  that  did  most  to  determine  the  set 
of  Parker’s  mind  were  taken  from  Mr.  Ripley’s  library. 
For  a considerable  time,  in  Parker’s  early  ministry,  they 
were  close  and  thoroughly  congenial  friends.  They 
walked  and  talked  together  ; made  long  excursions  ; 
attended  conventions  ; were  members  of  the  same  club 
or  coterie;  joined  in  the  discussions  at  which  Emerson, 
Channing,  Hedge,  Clark,  Alcott  took  part ; and,  though 
parted,  in  after  life,  by  circumstances  which  appointed 
them  to  different  spheres  of  labor, — one  in  Boston,  the 
other  in  New  York,- — they  continued  to  the  end,  constant 
and  hearty  well  wishers.  At  the  close  of  his  life,  Parker 
expressed  a hope  that  Ripley  might  be  his  biographer. 

Mr.  Ripley  prepared  for  the  ministry  at  the  Cam- 
bridge divinity  school ; in  1826  accepted  a call  to  be 
pastor  and  preacher  of  the  church,  organized  but  eight- 
een months  before,  and  within  two  months  worshipping 
in  their  new  meeting-house  on  Purchase  street,  Boston. 
The  ordination  took  place  on  Wednesday,  Nov.  8th,  of 


324 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


the  same  year.  “ Under  his  charge,”  said  his  successor, 
Rev.  J.  I.  T.  Coolidge,  in  1848,  “ the  society  grew  from 
very  small  beginnings  to  strength  and  prosperity.  As  a 
preacher,  he  awakened  the  deepest  interest,  and  as  a 
devoted  pastor,  the  warmest  affection,  which  still  sur- 
vives, deep  and  strong,  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  were 
the  objects  of  his  counsel  and  pastoral  care.  After  the 
lapse  of  almost  fifteen  years,  the  connection  was  dis- 
solved, for  reasons  which  affected  not  the  least  the  rela- 
tions of  friendship  and  mutual  respect  between  the  par- 
ties. It  has  been  a great  satisfaction  to  me,  as  I have 
passed  in  and  out  among  you,  to  hear  again  and  again 
the  expressions  of  love  and  interest  with  which  you  re- 
member the  ministry  of  your  first  servant  in  this  church.” 
That  this  was  not  merely  the  formal  tribute  which  the 
courtesies  of  the  profession  exacted,  is  proved,  as  well 
as- such  a thing  can  be  proved,  by  the  published  corre- 
spondence between  the  pastor  and  his  people,  by  the 
frank  declarations  of  the  pastor  in  his  farewell  address, 
and  by  a remarkable  letter,  which  discussed  in  full  the 
causes  that  led  to  the  separation  of  the  pastor  and  his 
flock.  In  this  long  and  candid  letter  to  the  church, 
Mr.  Ripley  declared  himself  a Transcendentalist,  and 
avowed  his  sympathy  with  movements  larger  than  the 
Christian  Church  represented. 

The  declaration  was  hardly  necessary.  Mr.  Ripley 
was  known  to  be  the  writer  of  the  review  of  Mar- 
tineau’s  “ Rationale  of  Religious  Enquiry,”  which 
raised  such  heated  controversy  ; his  translation  of 
Cousin’s  “ Philosophical  Miscellanies,”  with  its  impor- 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 


325 


tant  Introduction,  had  attracted  the  attention  of  literary 
circles  ; a volume  of  discourses,  entitled  “ Discourses 
on  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,”  comprising  seven  ser- 
mons delivered  in  the  regular  course  of  his  ministry,  left 
no  doubt  in  any  mind  respecting  his  position.  The  con- 
troversy with  Andrews  Norton  on  “ The  Latest  Form 
of  Infidelity,”  was  carried  on  in  1840,  the  year  before 
Mr.  Ripley’s  ministry  ended.  The  calmness  of  tone 
that  characterized  all  these  writings,  the  clearness  and 
serenity  of  statement,  the  seemingly  easy  avoidance  of 
extremes,  the  absence  of  passion,  showed  the  suprema- 
cy of  intellect  over  feeling.  Yet  of  feeling  there  must 
have  been  a good  deal.  There  was  a great  deal  in  the 
community  ; there  was  a great  deal  among  the  clergy  of 
his  denomination  ; that  it  had  found  expression  within 
his  own  society,  is  betrayed  in  the  farewell  sermon  ; 
that  his  own  heart  was  deeply  touched,  was  confessed 
by  the  fact  that  on  the  very  day  after  his  parting  words 
to  his  congregation  were  spoken — on  March  29th,  1841 — F 
Mr.  Ripley  took  up  his  new  ministry  at  Brook  Farm. 

The  character  of  that  Association  has  been  described 
in  a previous  chapter,  with  as  much  minuteness  of  detail 
as  is  necessary,  and  the  purposes  of  its  inaugurators 
have  been  sufficiently  indicated.  The  founder  of  it  was 
not  a “ doctrinaire,”  but  a philanthropist  on  ideal  prin- 
ciples. With  the  systems  of  socialism  current  in  Paris, 
he  was  at  that  period  wholly  unacquainted.  The  name 
of  Charles  Fourier  was  unfamiliar  to  him.  He  had  faith 
in  the  soul,  and  in  the  soul’s  prophecy  of  good  ; he  saw 
that  the  prophecy  was  unheeded,  that  society  rested  on 


326 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


principles  which  the  soul  abhorred  ; that  between  the 
visions  of  the  spiritual  philosophy  and  the  bitter  realities 
of  vice,  misery,  sin,  in  human  life,  there  was  an  unap- 
peasable conflict ; and  he  was  resolved  to  do  what  one 
man  might  to  create  a new  earth  in  preparation  for  a 
new  heaven.  He  took  the  Gospel  at  its  word,  and  went 
forth  to  demonstrate  the  power  of  its  principles,  by 
showing  the  Beatitudes  to  be  something  more  substan- 
tial than  dreams.  His  costly  library,  with  all  its  beloved 
books,  was  offered  for  sale  at  public  auction,  and  the 
price  thereof,  with  whatever  else  he  possessed,  was  con- 
secrated to  the  cause  of  humanity  that  he  had  at  heart. 
He  had  no  children,  and  few  ties  of  kindred  ; but  the 
social  position  of  the  clergy  was  above  any  secular  posi- 
tion in  New  England  at  that  time  ; the  prejudices  and 
antipathies  of  the  clerical  order  were  stubborn  ; the 
leaders  of  opinion  in  state  and  church  were  conservative, 
to  a degree  it  is  difficult  for  us  to  believe  ; the  path  of 
the  reformer  was  strewn  with  thorns  and  beset  with  dif- 
ficulties most  formidable  to  sensitive  spirits.  Mr.  Em- 
erson had  resigned  his  ministry  nine  years  before,  and 
for  the  reason  too  that  he  was  a Transcendentalist,  but 
had  retired  to  the  peaceful  walks  of  literature,  and  had 
made  no  actual  assault  on  social  institutions.  Mr.  Rip- 
ley associated  himself  at  once  with  people  of  no  worldly 
consideration,  avowed  principles  that  were  voted  vulgar 
in  refined  circles,  and  identified  himself  with  an  enter- 
prise which  the  amiable  called  visionary,  and  the  unamia- 
ble  wild  and  revolutionary.  But  his  conviction  was 
clear,  and  his  will  was  fixed.  Sustained  by  the  entire 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 


327 


sympathy  of  a very  noble  woman,  his  wife — who  was 
one  with  him  in  aspiration,  purpose,  and  endeavor,  till 
the  undertaking  ended — he  put  “the  world”  behind  him, 
sold  all,  and  followed  the  Master. 

^ Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ripley  were  the  life  of  the  Brook  Farm 
Association.  Their  unfaltering  energy,  unfailing  cheer, 
inexhaustible  sweetness  and  gayety,  availed  to  keep  up 
the  tone  of  the  institution,  to  prevent  its  becoming  com- 
mon-place, and  to  retain  there  the  persons  on  whose 
character  the  moral  and  intellectual  standard  depended. 
It  was  due  to  them  that  the  experiment  was  tried  as  long 
as  it  was — six  years  ; — that  while  it  went  on,  it  avoided, 
as  it  did,  the  usual  scandal  and  reproach  that  bring  ruin 
on  schemes  of  that  description ; and  that,  when  finally  it 
ended  in  disaster,  it  commanded  sympathy  rather  than 
contempt,  and  left  a sweet  memory  behind.  The  origi- 
nator was  the  last  to  leave  the  place  of  his  toil  and  vain 
endeavor  ; he  left  it,  having  made  all  necessary  provi- 
sion for  the  discharge  of  debts,  which  only  through 
arduous  labors  in  journalism  he  was  able  afterwards 
to  pay. 

In  Mr.  Ripley’s  mind  the  Idea  was  supreme.  In  1844 
he,  with  Mr.  Dana  and  Mr.  Channing,  lectured  and  spoke 
on  the  principles  of  Association,— the  foreign  literature 
on  the  subject  being  more  familiar  to  him  then, — com- 
mended the  doctrine  of  Fourier,  and  was  prepared  for 
a more  sympathetic  propagandism  than  he  had  meditated 
hitherto.  In  1845,  the  “Harbinger”  was  started, — a 
weekly  journal,  devoted  to  Social  and  Political  Progress  ; 
published  by  the  Brook  Farm  Phalanx.  The  Prospectus, 


328 


TRANSCENDENTALISM . 


written  by  Mr.  Ripley,  made  this  announcement : “ The 
principles  of  universal  unity  taught  by  Charles  Fourier 
in  their  application  to  society,  we  believe  are  at  the 
foundation  of  all  genuine  social  progress  ; and  it  will  ever 
be  our  aim  to  discuss  and  defend  those  principles  with- 
out any  sectarian  bigotry,  and  in  the  catholic  and  com- 
prehensive spirit  of  their  great  discoverer.”  An  intro- 
ductory notice  by  the  same  pen,  among  other  things 
pertaining  to  the  aims  and  intentions  of  the  paper,  con- 
tained this  passage  : 


“ The  interests  of  Social  Reform  will  be  considered  as 
paramount  to  all  others  in  whatever  is  admitted  into 
the  pages  of  the  “ Harbinger.”  We  shall  suffer  no  attach- 
ment to  literature,  no  taste  for  abstract  discussion,  no 
love  of  purely  intellectual  theories,  to  seduce  us  from  our 
devotion  to  the  cause  of  the  oppressed,  the  down  trodden, 
the  insulted  and  injured  masses  of  our  fellow  men. 
Every  pulsation  of  our  being  vibrates  in  sympathy  with 
the  wrongs  of  the  toiling  millions  ; and  every  wise  effort 
for  their  speedy  enfranchisement  will  find  in  us  resolute 
and  indomitable  advocates.  If  any  imagine  from  the 
literary  tone  of  the  preceding  remarks  that  we  are  in- 
different to  the  radical  movement  for  the  benefit  of  the 
masses  which  is  the  crowning  glory  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, they  will  soon  discover  their  egregious  mistake.  To 
that  movement,  consecrated  by  religious  principle,  sus- 
tained by  an  awful  sense  of  justice,  and  cheered  by  the 
brightest  hopes  of  future  good,  all  our  powers,  talents, 
and  attainments  are  devoted.  We  look  for  an  audience 
among  the  refined  and  educated  circles,  to  which  the 
character  of  our  paper  will  win  its  way  ; but  we  shall 
also  be  read  by  the  swart  and  sweaty  artisan  ; the  laborer 
will  find  in  us  another  champion  ; and  many  hearts  strug- 
gling with  the  secret  hope  which  no  weight  of  care  and 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 


329 


toil  can  entirely  suppress,  will  pour  on  us  their  benedic- 
tions, as  we  labor  for  the  equal  rights  of  all.” 

In  the  four  years  of  its  existence,  the  paper  was  faith- 
ful to  this  grand  and  high  sounding  promise.  A power- 
ful company  of  writers  contributed  their  labor  to  help 
forward  the  plan.  The  Journal  was  affluent  and  spark- 
ling. The  literary  criticism  was  the  work  of  able  pens  ; 
the  musical  and  art  criticism  was  in  the  hands  of  the  most 
competent  judges  in  the  country  ; the  aesthetics  were  not 
neglected  ; the  verse  was  excellent ; but  the  social  ques- 
tions were  of  first  consideration.  These  were  never 
treated  slightingly,  and  the  treatment  of  them  never  de- 
viated from  the  high  standard  proposed  by  the  editors. 
The  list  of  its  contributors  contained  the  names  of 
Stephen  Pearl  Andrews,  Albert  Brisbane,  W.  H.  Chan- 
ning,  W.  E.  Charming,  Walter  Channing.  James  Free- 
man Clarke,  Geo.  H.  Calvert,  J.  J.  Cooke,  A.  J.  H. 
Duganne,  C.  P.  Cranch,  Geo.  W.  Curtis,  Charles  A. 
Dana,  J.  S.  Dwight,  Horace  Greeley,  Parke  Godwin, 
F.  H.  Hedge,  T.  W.  Higginson,  M.  E.  Fazarus,  J.  R. 
Fowell,  Osborn  Macdaniel,  Geo.  Ripley,  S.  D.  Robbins, 
F.  W.  Ryckman,  F.  G.  Shaw,  W.  W.  Story,  Henry 
James,  John  G.  Whittier,  J.  J.  G.  Wilkinson — a most 
remarkable  collection  of  powerful  names. 

The  departments  seem  not  to  have  been  systematically 
arranged,  but  the  writers  sent  what  they  had,  the  same 
writer  furnishing  articles  on  a variety  of  topics.  Mr. 
F.  G.  Shaw  published,  in  successive  numbers,  an  admir- 
able translation  of  George  Sand’s  “ Consuelo,”  and  wrote 
against  the  iniquities  of  the  principle  of  competition  in 


33° 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


trade.  C.  A.  Dana  noticed  books,  reported  movements, 
criticized  men  and  measures,  translated  poetry  from  the 
German,  and  sent  verses  of  a mystical  and  sentimental 
character  of  his  own.  C.  P.  Cranch  contributed  poems 
and  criticisms  on  art  and  music.  J.  S.  Dwight  paid  at- 
tention to  the  musical  department,  but  also  wrote  book 
reviews  and  articles  on  the  social  problem.  W.  PI. 
Channing  poured  out  his  burning  soul  in  denunciation  of 
social  wrong  and  painted  in  glowing  colors  the  promise 
of  the  future.  G.  W.  Curtis  sent  poetry  and  notes  on 
literature  and  music  in  New  York.  T.  W.  Higginson 
printed  there  his  “ Hymn  of  Humanity.”  Messrs.  Bris- 
bane, Godwin  and  Greeley  confined  themselves  to  social 
problems,  doing  a large  part  of  the  heavy  work.  Mr. 
Ripley,  the  Managing  Editor,  supervised  the  whole  ; 
wrote  much  himself  on  the  different  aspects  of  Associa- 
tion ; reported  the  progress  of  the  cause  at  home  and 
abroad  ; answered  the  objections  that  were  current  in  the 
popular  prejudice,  and  gave  to  the  paper  the  encouraging 
tone  of  his  cheery,  earnest  spirit. 

As  interpreted  by  the  “ Harbinger,”  the  cause  of  Asso- 
ciation was  hospitable  and  humane.  The  technicalities  of 
special  systems  were  avoided  ; dry  discussions  of  theory 
and  method  were  put  aside  ; generous  sympathy 
was  shown  towards  philanthropic  workers  in  other  fields  ; 
the  tone  of  wailing  was  never  heard,  and  the  anticipa- 
tions of  the  future  were  steadily  bright  and  bold.  When 
reformers  of  a pronounced  type,  like  the  abolitionists, 
spoke  of  it  slightingly  as  a “ kid  glove  ” journal  that 
was  afraid  of  soiling  its  fingers  with  ugly  matters  like 


THE  MAN  OF  LF.  TIERS. 


331 


slavery,  the  Associationists  explained  that  their  plan 
was  the  more  comprehensive  ; that  they  struck  at  the 
root  of  every  kind  of  slavery  ; and  that  the  worst  evils 
would  disappear  when  their  beneficent  principle  should 
be  recognized.  That  the  “Harbinger”  should  have  lived 
no  longer  than  it  did,  with  such  a corps  of  writers 
and  so  great  a cause, — the  last  number  is  dated  February 
10,  1849, — may  be  accounted  for  by  the  feeble  hold  that 
Socialism  had  in  this  country.  In  Europe  the  hearts  of 
the  working  people  were  in  it.  It  originated  among 
them,  expressed  their  actual  sorrows,  answered  their 
living  questions,  promised  satisfaction  to  their  wants, 
and  predicted  the  only  future  they  could  imagine  as  in 
any  way  possible.  Here  it  was  an  imported  speculation  ; 
the  working  people  were  not  driven  to  It  for  refuge  from 
their  misery;  they  did  not  ask  the  questions  it  proposed 
to  answer,  nor  did  it  hold  out  prospects  that  gladdened 
their  eyes.  The  advocates  of  it  were  cultivated  men, 
literary  and  sesthetical,  who  represented  the  best  the  old 
world  had  to  give,  rather  than  the  worst  the  New  World 
had  experienced  ; and  their  words  met  with  no  response 
from  the  multitudes  in  whose  behoof  they  were  spoken. 
America  was  exercised  then  by  questions  of  awful  mo- 
ment. The  agitation  against  slavery  had  taken  hold  of 
the  whole  country  ; it  was  in  politics,  in  journalism,  in 
literature,  in  the  public  hall  and  the  parlor.  Its  issues 
were  immediate  and  urgent.  People  had  neither  heads 
nor  hearts  for  schemes  of  comprehensive  scope  that 
must  be  patiently  meditated  and  matured  for  generations. 
No  talents,  no  brilliancy,  no  earnestness  even,  would  en- 


332 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


gage  interest  in  what  seemed  visionary,  however  glorious 
the  vision.  The  socialistic  enterprises  in  America  were 
all  short  lived.  Brook  Farm  was  an  idyl ; and  in  the 
days  of  epics,  the  idyl  is  easily  forgotten. 

The  decease  of  the  “ Harbinger”  was  the  end  of  that 
phase  of  Transcendentalism.  The  dream  of  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  faded.  The  apostles  were  dispersed. 
Some  kept  their  faith  and  showed  their  fidelity  in  other 
places  and  other  work.  Three  or  four  went  into  the 
Roman  Church,  and  found  rest  on  its  ancient  bosom. 
Others  found  a field  for  their  talents  in  literature,  which 
they  beautified  with  their  genius,  and  ennobled  by  their 
ideas.  Others  devoted  themselves  to  journalism.  Of 
the  last  was  George  Ripley.  The  Nezv  York  Tribune 
offered  him  the  post  of  literary  critic  on  its  editorial  staff. 
That  position  he  has  occupied  for  twenty-five  years, 
in  a way  honorable  to  himself  and  to  good  letters.  It 
has  been  in  his  power  to  aid  the  development  of  litera- 
ture in  America,  in  many  ways,  by  encouraging  young 
writers  ; by  giving  direction  to  ambitious  but  immature 
gifts;  by  erecting  a standard  of  judgment,  high,  without 
being  unreasonable,  and  strict,  without  being  austere. 
A large  acquaintance  with  books,  a cultivated  taste,  a 
hospitable  appreciation,  a hearty  love  of  good  literary 
work,  a cordial  dislike  of  bad,  a just  estimation  of  the 
rights  and  duties  of  literary  men,  and  the  office  they 
should  fill  in  a republican  community,  have  marked  his 
administration  of  the  department  assigned  to  him.  He 
has  held  it  to  be  his  duty  to  make  intelligent  reports  of 
current  literature,  with  enough  of  criticism  to  convey 


THE  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 


333 


his  own  opinion  of  its  character,  without  dictating 
opinions  to  others.  Worthless  books  received  their  due, 
and  worthy  books  received  theirs  in  full  measure.  The 
books  in  which  worth  and  worthlessness  were  united 
were  discriminatingly  handled,  the  emphasis  being  laid 
on  the  better  qualities.  Many  of  the  reviews  were  es- 
says, full  of  discernment.  All  showed  that  respect  for 
mind  which  might  be  expected  from  one  so  carefully 
trained. 

Mr.  Ripley  has  been  true  to  the  ideas  with  which  he 
set  out  in  his  early  life.  His  period  of  philosophical 
propagandism  being  over  ; his  young  enthusiasm  having 
spent  itself  in  experiments  which  trial  proved  to  be 
premature,  to  say  the  least,  if  not  essentially  impractica- 
ble ; his  dreams  having  faded,  when  his  efforts  ended  in 
disappointment,  he  retired  from  public  view  neither  dis- 
pirited, nor  morose.  His  interest  in  philosophy  contin- 
ues undiminished  ; his  hope  of  man,  though  more  sub- 
dued, is  clear  ; his  faith  in  the  spiritual  basis  of  religion 
is  serene.  Disappointment  has  not  made  him  bitter, 
reckless  or  frivolous.  His  power  of  moral  indignation 
at  wrong  and  turpitude  is  unimpaired,  though  it  no  lon- 
ger breaks  out  with  the  former  vehemence.  A cheerful 
wisdom  gained  by  thought  and  experience  of  sorrow, 
tempers  his  judgment  of  men  and  measures.  His  con- 
fidence is  in  culture,  in  literature,  generously  interpreted 
and  fostered,  in  ideas  honestly  entertained  and  freely 
expressed. 

The  Transcendentalist  keeps  his  essential  faith.  Gen- 
erally the  Transcendentalists  have  done  this.  It  was  a 


334 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


faith  too  deeply  planted,  too  nobly  illustrated,  too  fer- 
vent and  beautiful  in  youth,  to  be  laid  aside  in  age. 
James  Walker  died  in  the  ripeness  of  it  ; Parker  died  in 
the  strength  of  it  ; others — old  and  grave  men  now — live 
in  the  joy  of  it.  The  few  who  have  relapsed,  have  done 
so,  some  under  pressure  of  worldly  seduction- — they 
having  no  depth  of  root — and  some  under  the  influence 
of  scientific  teaching,  which  has  shaken  the  foundation 
of  their  psychology.  The  original  disciples,  undis- 
mayed by  the  signs  of  death,  still  believe  in  the  Master, 
and  live  in  the  hope  of  his  resurrection. 


XIV. 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 

The  so-called  Minor  Prophets  of  the  Old  Testament 
owed  that  designation  to  the  brevity,  rather  than  to  the 
insignificance  of  their  utterances.  They  were  among 
the  most  glowing  and  exalted  of  the  Hebrew  bards,  less 
sustained  in  their  flight  than  their  great  fellows,  but 
with  as  much  of  the  ancient  fire  as  any  of  them.  It  is 
proper  to  say  as  much  as  this  to  justify  the  application 
of  the  title  to  the  men  who  claim  mention  now  as 
prominent  in  the  transcendental  movement. 

William  Henry  Channing  is  not  quite  fairly  ranked 
among  minor  prophets,  even  on  this  explanation,  for  he 
has  been  copious  as  well  as  intense.  A nephew  of  the 
great  Doctor  Channing — a favorite  nephew,  on  account 
of  his  moral  earnestness,  and  the  close  sympathy  he  felt 
with  views  that  did  honor  to  human  nature  and  glori- 
fied the  existence  of  man, — he  grew  up  in  the  purest  at- 
mosphere that  New  England  supplied — the  most  intel- 
lectual, the  most  quickening.  He  was  born  in  the  same 
year  with  Theodore  Parker,  and  but  three  months  earli- 
er, and. was  native  to  the  same  spiritual  climate.  He 
was  educated  at  Harvard,  and  prepared  for  the  ministry 
at  Cambridge  Divinity  School,  where  the  new  ideas 


336 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


were  fermenting.  He  was  graduated  the  year  before 
Parker  entered.  His  name  was  conspicuous  among  the 
agitators  of  the  new  faith.  He  was  a contributor  to  the 
“ Dial.”  In  1848  he  published  the  Memoirs  of  his  un- 
cle, in  three  volumes,  proving  his  fitness  for  the  task  by 
the  sincerity  in  which  he  discharged  it.  In  1840  he 
translated  Jouffroy’s  Ethics,  in  two  volumes,  for  Ripley’s 
“ Specimens  of  Foreign  Standard  Literature.”  In  1852 
he  took  part  in  writing  the  Memoirs  of  Margaret  Fuller, 
the  second  volume  being  chiefly  his  work.  “ The  Life 
and  Writings  of  James  H.  Perkins,”  of  Cincinnati,  a 
pioneer  of  rationalism  at  the  West,  came  more  fitly  from 
his  pen  than  from  any  other.  In  the  “ Western  Mes- 
senger,” which  he  edited  for  one  year;  the  “ Present,” 
and  the  “ Spirit  of  the  Age,”  short-lived  journals,  of 
which  he  was  the  soul  ; in  the  “ Harbinger,”  to  which 
he  was  a generous  and  sympathetic  contributor — he  ex- 
hibited a fine  quality  of  genius.  The  intensity  of  his 
nature,  his  open-mindedness,  frankness,  and  spiritual 
sensitiveness,  his  fervency  of  aspiration  and  his  out- 
spokenness, made  the  office  of  settled  pastor  and  steady 
routine  preacher  distasteful  to  him.  He  was  a prophet 
who  went  from  place  to  place,  with  a message  of  joy 
and  hope.  Meadville,  Cincinnati,  Nashua,  Rochester, 
Boston,  and  New  York,  were  scenes  of  his  pastoral 
service.  His  preaching  was  every  where  attended 
by  the  clearest  heads  and  the  deepest  hearts.  In 
New  York  his  society  was  composed  of  free  elements 
altogether,  come-outers,  reformers,  radicals  of  every 
description.  His  command  of  language,  his  free  de- 


THE  MAH  OF  LETTERS. 


337 


livery,  his  musical  voice,  his  expressive  countenance,  his 
noble  air,  his  extraordinary  power  of  kindling  enthusi- 
asm, his  affluence  and  boldness  of  thought,  his  high 
standard  of  character,  made  him  in  his  prime  an  enchant- 
ing speaker. 

Very  early  in  his  career  Mr.  Channing  committed 
himself  to  the  transcendental  philosophy  as  interpreted 
by  the  French  School,  for  he  possessed  the  swiftness 
of  perception,  the  felicity  of  exposition,  the  sensibility 
to  effects,  the  passion  for  clean  statement  and  plausible 
generalization  that  distinguish  the  French  genius  from 
the  German  and  the  English.  The  introduction  to 
Joufifroy’s  Ethics  contained  the  principles  of  the  French 
school  of  philosophy,  which,  to  judge  from  his  appro- 
ving tone,  he  had  himself  accepted  : 

That  Psychology  is  the  basis  of  Philosophy. 

That  the  highest  problems  of  Ontology  maybe  solved 
by  inductions  from  the  facts  which  Psychology  ascertains. 

That  Psychology  and  the  History  of  Philosophy  recip- 
rocally explain  each  other. 

With  these  ideas  firmly  fixed  in  his  mind  he  went 
forth  on  a prophetic  mission,  to  which  he  remained  un- 
falteringly true. 

We  saw  him  first  at  a convention  in  Boston  called  by 
the  reformers  who  demanded  the  abolition  of  the  gal- 
lows. There  were  several  speakers — Edwin  PE  Chapin, 
then  in  the  days  of  his  moral  enthusiasm,  Wendell 
Phillips,  already  known  as  an  agitator  and  an  orator — - 
all  spoke  well  from  their  different  grounds,  but  the 
image  of  Channing  is  the  most  distinct  in  mind  to-day. 
IS 


338 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


His  manner,  attitude,  speech,  are  all  recalled.  The  argu- 
ments he  used  abide  in  memory.  He  wasted  words 
on  no  incidental  points  of  detail,  but  at  once  took  his 
stand  on  the  principle  of  the  idealist  that  man  is  a sacred 
being,  and  life  a sacred  gift,  and  love  the  rule  of  the 
divine  law.  Chapin  thundered  ; Phillips  criticized  and 
stung  ; Channing  burned  with  a pure  enthusiasm  that 
lifted  souls  into  a celestial  air  and  made  all  possibilities  of 
justice  seem  practicable.  He  did  not  argue  or  denounce  ; 
he  prophesied.  There  was  not  a word  of  scorn  or  de- 
testation ; but  there  were  passages  of  touching  power, 
describing  the  influence  of  gentleness  and  the  response 
that  the  hardest  hearts  would  give  to  it,  that  shamed 
the  listeners  out  of  their  vindictiveness.  On  the 
anti-slavery  platform  his  attitude  was  the  same.  There 
was  no  more  persuasive  speaker. 

In  the  controversy  between  the  Unitarians  of  the 
transcendental  and  those  of  the  opposite  school,  Mr. 
Channing’s  sympathies  were  with  the  former,  but  he 
took  no  very  prominent  public  part  in  it.  He  was 
averse  to  controversy  ; questions  of  sectarian  opinion 
and  organization  had  little  interest  for  him.  His  mind 
lived  in  broad  principles  and  positive  ideas  ; the  method 
he  believed  in  was  that  of  winning  minds  to  the  truth  by 
generous  appeals,  and  so  planting  out  error.  Against 
everything  like  injustice  or  illiberality,  his  protest  was 
eager,  but  he  was  willing  to  leave  polemics  to  others  ; 
what  he  said  was  in  the  strain  of  faith  in  larger  and 
more  inclusive  beliefs.  He  had  a passion  for  catholi- 
city, which  came  partly  from  his  temperament,  and  partly 


MINOR  PROPHETS , 


339 


from  the  eclecticism  he  professed.  His  word  was  re- 
conciling, like  his  influence,  which  was  never  associated 
with  partisanship. 

Mr.  Channing  was  early  attracted  to  the  bearings  of 
the  spiritual  philosophy  on  the  problems  of  society,  the 
elevation  of  the  working  classes,  the  rescue  of  humanity 
from  pauperism  and  crime.  As  an  interpreter  of  Chris- 
tian socialism  his  activity  was  incessant.  He  took  part  in 
the  discussions  that  led  to  the  experiment  of  Brook 
Farm,  and  was  acquainted  intimately  with  the  projecting 
of  it,  having  himself  entire  faith  in  the  reorganization  of 
society  on  principles  of  equity.  Had  circumstances  per- 
mitted— he  was  then  minister  to  a church  in  Cincinnati, 
and  much  occupied  with  professional  duties — he  would 
have  connected  himself  with  the  Brook  Farm  Association. 
As  it  was,  he  visited  it  whenever  he  could,  spending  seve- 
ral days  at  a time.  In  1844,  when  the  union  was  formed 
with  the  New  York  Socialists  and  the  leaders  went  out  to 
enlighten  and  stimulate  public  sentiment  on  the  sub- 
ject, Mr.  Channing  did  faithful  work  as  a lecturer.  He 
was  president  of  the  Boston  Union  of  Associationists, 
and  wrote  a book  on  the  Christian  Church  and  Moral 
Reform.  From  the  first,  being  of  a speculative,  philo- 
sophical and  experimental  turn  of  mind,  he  entertained 
more  systematic  views  than  were  common  among  New 
England  socialists,  but  the  principle  of  love  was  always 
more  to  him  than  opinions  or  schemes.  His  views  coin- 
cided with  Fourier,  but  his  heart  was  Christian.  On  the 
failure  of  the  associated  plans  of  his  friends,  and  the  ces- 
sation of  interest  in  Socialism  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic, 


34° 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


his  thoughts  turned  towards  the  Christian  Church  as  the 
providentially  appointed  means  of  obtaining  what  the 
Utopians  had  failed  of  reaching.  He  was  never  a 
Churchman  ; never  abandoned  the  views  that  made  him 
an  independent  preacher  ; but  he  never  lost  faith  in  the 
ministry;  his  hopes  turned  toward  the  institutions  of  re- 
ligion as  having  in  them  the  ideal  potencies  he  trusted  ; 
he  looked  for  faith  and  love  in  the  Gospel,  and  sought 
to  draw  out  the  lessons  of  charity  that  were  inculcated 
by  Jesus  ; to  deliver  these  from  the  hands  of  the  formal- 
ists and  sectarians  ; to  make  peace  between  parties  and 
churches  ; to  discover  common  ground  for  all  believers  to 
stand  and  labor  on — was  his  aim.  Had  his  faith  not  been 
inclusive  of  all  forms  of  the  religious  sentiment,  he  might, 
in  England,  where  he  resided  so  long,  have  been  a broad- 
churchman.  But  Christianity,  in  his  view,  was  but  one 
of  many  religions,  all  essentially  divine,  and  he  could 
not  belong  to  any  church  less  wide  than  the  church 
universal. 

During  a portion  of  the  civil  war,  Mr.  Channing  was 
in  Washington  preaching  the  gospel  of  liberty  and  loyalty, 
and  laboring  in  the  hospitals  with  unflagging  devotion, 
thankful  for  an  opportunity  to  put  into  work  the  enthu- 
siasm of  his  passionate  soul.  Later,  he  revisited  his 
native  country,  and  showed  his  interest  in  the  cause  of 
religious  freedom  and  unity. 

The  name  of  Channing  is  conspicuous  in  the  history  of 
American  idealism.  Another  nephew  of  Dr.  Channing, 
William  Ellery  Channing, — a man  of  original  force  of 
mind  and  character,  a bold  adventurer  in  literature  and 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


34i 


life,  of  independent  ideas,  principles  and  deeds,  an 
abolitionist,  a friend  of  Garrison  and  Parker,  reformer 
and  philosopher,  author  of  many  volumes — wrote  poetry 
and  prose  for  the  “Dial”  and,  in  1873,  a life  of  Henry 
Thoreau. 

In  the  list  of  the  Transcendentalists  Cyrus  Augustus 
Bartol  must  not  be  forgotten,  a soaring  mind  enamored 
of  thoughts  on  divine  things,  inextricably  caught  in  the 
toils  of  speculation.  Acute  and  brilliant,  but  wayward  ; 
with  a quick  eye  for  analogies,  fanciful  and  eccentric,  of 
clear  intuitions,  glimpses,  perceptions  astonishingly 
luminous  ; but  without  fixed  allegiance  to  system,  and 
therefore  difficult  to  classify  under  any  school.  In  the 
Unitarian  controversy,  which  was  a tryer  of  spirits,  it 
was  not  always  plain  to  observers  in  which  camp  he  be- 
longed ; not  that  his  fundamental  principle  was  unsteady, 
but  because  his  curious  and  critical  mind  was  detained 
by  considerations  that  others  did  not  see  ; and  his  ab- 
solute sincerity  gave  expression  to  the  moods  of  feeling 
as  they  passed  over  him.  Some  words  in  Parker’s  farewell 
letter  to  him  seem  to  imply  that  at  critical  junctures  they 
had  been  on  opposite  sides,  but  the  difference  could 
scarcely  have  touched  fundamental  truths.  No  man 
was  further  from  the  school  of  Locke,  Paley  or  Ben- 
tham  than  C.  A.  Bartol.  His  Transcendentalism  had  a 
cast  of  its  own  ; it  was  not  made  after  any  pattern  ; it 
took  its  color  from  an  original  genius  illuminated  by 
various  reading  of  books,  and  by  deep  meditation  in 
the  privacy  of  the  closet,  and  the  companionship  of 
nature  of  which  he  is  a child-like  worshipper.  No 


342 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


wealth  of  human  sympathy  prevents  his  being  a solitary. 
His  song  is  lyrical ; his  prophecy  drops  like  a voice  from 
the  clouds.  In  the  agitations  of  his  time  he  has  had 
small  share  ; organized  and  associated  effort  did  not 
attract  him.  To  many  he  represents  the  model  Trans- 
cendentalism for  he  seems  a man  who  lives  above  the 
clouds, — not  always  above  them,  either. 

His  faith  in  the  soul  has  never  known  eclipse.  It 
waxes  strong  by  its  wrestling,  and  becomes  jubilant  in 
proportion  as  nature  and  life  try  to  stare  it  out  of  coun- 
tenance. Ballast  is  wings  to  him. 

“ Transcendentalism  relies  on  those  ideas  in  the  mind 
which  are  laws  in  the  life.  Pantheism  is  said  to  sink  man 
and  nature  in  God  ; Materialism  to  sink  God  and  man  in 
nature,  and  Transcendentalism  to  sink  God  and  nature 
in  man.  But  the  Transcendentalist  at  least  is  belied  and 
put  in  jail  by  the  definition  which  is  so  neat  at  the  ex- 
pense of  truth.  He  made  consciousness,  not  sense,  the 
ground  of  truth  ; and  in  the  present  devotion  to  physical 
science,  and  turn  of  philosophy  to  build  the  universe  on 
foundations  of  matter,  we  need  to  vindicate  and  reassert 
his  promise.  Is  the  soul  reared  on  the  primitive  rock  ? 
or  is  no  rock  primitive,  but  the  deposit  of  spirit — there- 
fore in  its  lowest  form  alive,  and  ever  rising  into  organ- 
ism to  reach  the  top  of  the  eternal  circle  again,  as  in  the 
well  one  bucket  goes  down  empty  and  the  other  rises  full  ? 
The  mistake  is  to  make  the  everlasting  things  subjects  of 
argument  instead  of  sight.” 

“ Our  soul  is  older  than  our  organism.  It  precedes  its 
clothing.  It  is  the  cause,  not  the  consequence,  of  its 
material  elements  ; else,  as  materialists  understand,  it 
does  not  exist.” 

“ What  is  it  that  accepts  misery  from  the  Most  High, 
defends  the  Providence  that  inflicts  its  woes,  espouses 
its  chastiser’s  cause,  purges  itself  in  the  pit  of  its  misery 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


343 


of  all  contempt  of  His  commands,  and  makes  its  agonies 
the  beams  and  rafters  of  the  triumph  it  builds  ? It  is 
an  immortal  principle.  It  is  an  indestructible  essence. 
It  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  Divinity  it  adores.  It  can 
no  more  die  than  he  can.  It  needs  no  more  insurance 
of  life  than  its  author  does.  Prove  its  title?  It  is  proof 
itself  of  all  things  else.  It  is  substantive,  and  every- 
thing adjective  beside.  It  is  the  kingdom  all  things  will 
be  added  to.” 

This  was  published  in  1872,  and  proves  that  one 
Transcendentalist  has  kept  his  faith. 

James  Freeman  Clarke  as  little  deserves  to  be  ranked 
among  the  Minor  Prophets  as  any,  for  he  was  one  of  the 
earliest  Transcendentalists,  a contemporary  and  intimate 
ally  of  Parker,  a co-worker  with  Channing,  a close 
friend  and  correspondent  of  Miss  Fuller,  a sympathizer 
with  Alcott  in  his  attempts  to  spiritualize  education,  a 
frequent  contributor  to  the  “ Dial,”  the  intellectual 
fellow  of  the  brilliant  minds  that  made  the  epoch  what  it 
was.  But  his  interest  was  not  confined  to  the  school, 
nor  did  the  technicalities  or  details  of  the  transcendental 
movement  embarrass  him  ; his  catholic  mind  took  in 
opinions  of  all  shades,  and  men  of  all  communions. 
His  place  is  among  theologians  and  divines  rather  than 
among  philosophers.  But,  though  churchly  tastes  led 
him  away  from  the  company  of  thinkers  where  he  intel- 
lectually belonged,  and  an  unfailing  common  sense 
saved  him  from  the  extravagances  into  which  some  of 
them  fell,  a Transcendentalist  he  was,  and  an  uncom- 
promising one.  The  intuitive  philosophy  was  his 
guide.  It  gave  him  his  assurance  of  spiritual  truths  ; 


344 


TRA  NS  CENDENTALTSM. 


it  interpreted  for  him  the  gospels  and  Jesus  ; it  inspired 
his  endeavors  to  reconcile  beliefs,  to  promote  unity 
among  the  discordant  sects,  to  enlighten  and  redeem 
mankind.  His  mission  has  been  that  of  a spiritual  peace- 
maker. But  while  doing  this,  he  has  worked  faithfully 
at  particular  causes  ; was  an  avowed  and  earnest  aboli- 
tionist in  the  anti-slavery  days  ; was  ever  a disbeliever  in 
war,  an  enemy  of  vindictive  and  violent  legislation,  a 
hearty  friend  and  laborer  in  the  field  of  woman’s  elec- 
tion to  the  full  privileges  of  culture  and  citizenship  ; a 
man  in  whom  faith,  hope  and  charity  abounded  and 
abound  ; a man  of  intellectual  convictions  which  made 
a groundwork  for  his  life. 

Mr.  Clarke  is  a conspicuous  example  of  the  way  in 
which  the  intuitive  philosophy  leavened  the  whole  mind. 
It  associated  him  closely  both  with  radicals  and  con- 
servatives ; with  the  former,  because  his  principle  in- 
volved faith  in  progress  ; with  the  latter,  because  it  im- 
plied respect  for  the  progress  of  past  times  which  insti- 
tutions preserved.  His  conservatism  attested  the  fidel- 
ity of  his  radicalism,  and  both  avouched  the  loyalty  of 
his  idealism.  The  conservative  aspect  of  Transcenden- 
talism which  was  exhibited  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Channing, 
who  never  left  the  Christian  Church,  was  yet  more 
strikingly  illustrated  by  Mr.  Clarke.  All  his  books,  but 
particularly  the  “Ten  Great  Religions,”  show  the 
power  of  the  transcendental  idea  to  render  justice  to  all 
forms  of  faith,  and  give  positive  interpretations  to  doc- 
trines obscure  and  revolting.  It  detects  the  truth  in 
things  erroneous,  the  good  in  things  evil. 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


345 


A more  remarkable  instance  of  this  tendency  is  Sam- 
uel Johnson’s  volume  on  the  religions  of  India.  None 
save  a Transcendentalist  could  have  succeeded  in  ex- 
tracting so  much  deep  spiritual  meaning  from  the  symbols 
and  practices  of  those  ancient  faiths.  The  intuitive 
idea  takes  its  position  at  the  centre,  and  at  once  all 
blazes  with  glory. 

“ Man  is  divinely  prescient  of  his  infinity  of  mind  as 
soon  as  he  begins  to  meditate  and  respire.” 

“That  a profound  theistic  instinct,  the  intuition  of 
a divine  and  living  whole,  is  involved  in  the  primitive 
mental  processes  we  are  here  studying,  I hold  to  be 
beyond  all  question.” 

“ From  the  first  stages  of  its  growth  onwards,  the 
spirit  weaves  its  own  environment ; nature  is  forever 
the  reflex  of  its  life,  and  what  but  an  unquenchable 
aspiration  to  truth  could  have  made  it  choose  Light  as 
its  first  and  dearest  symbol,  reaching  out  a child’s  hand 
to  touch  and  clasp  it,  with  the  joyous  cry,  ‘Tis  mine, 
mine  to  create,  mine  to  adore  ! ’ ” 

“ Man  could  not  forget  that  pregnant  dawn  of  revela- 
tion, the  discovery  of  his  own  power  to  rekindle  the  life 
of  the  universe.” 

“ Man  is  here  dimly  aware  of  the  truth  that  he 
makes  and  remakes  his  own  conception  of  the  divine  ; 
that  the  revealing  of  duty  must  come  in  the  natural 
activity  of  his  human  powers.” 

“ As  far  back  as  we  can  trace  the  life  of  man,  we  find 
the  river  of  prayer  and  praise  flowing  as  naturally  as  it 
is  flowing  now  ; we  cannot  find  its  beginning,  because 
we  cannot  find  the  beginning  of  the  soul.” 

These  passages  give  the  key  to  Mr.  Johnson’s  ex- 
planation of  the  oriental  religions,  and  to  his  little  mon- 
ograph on  “The  Worship  of  Jesus,”  and  to  the 
15* 


346 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


printed  lectures,  addresses,  essays,  sermons,  in  which 
subjects  of  religion,  philosophy,  political  and  social  re- 
form have  been  profoundly  treated. 

Mr.  Johnson  came  forward  when  the  excitement  of 
transcendentalism  was  passing  by;  the  “ Dial”  no  longer 
marked  the  intellectual  hours  ; the  Unitarian  controversy 
had  spent  its  violence.  It  was  in  part  owing  to  this,  but 
more  to  the  spiritual  character  of  his  genius,  that  his 
Transcendentalism  was  free  from  polemic  and  dogmatic 
elements  ; but  it  was  none  the  less  positive  and  definite 
for  that — if  anything,  it  was  more  so.  In  the  divinity 
school  he  was  an  ardent  disciple  of  the  intuitive 
philosophy.  On  leaving  Cambridge  he  became  an  inde- 
pendent minister  of  the  most  pronounced  views,  but  of 
most  reverent  spirit ; a “ fideist”  or  faith  man,  he  loved 
to  call  himself ; his  aim  and  effort  was  to  awaken  the 
spiritual  nature,  to  interpret  the  spiritual  philosophy, 
and  to  apply  the  spiritual  laws  to  all  personal,  domestic 
and  social  concerns.  Like  all  the  Transcendentalists,  he 
was  a reformer,  and  an  enthusiastic  one;  interested  in 
liberty  and  progress,  but  primarily  in  intellectual  eman- 
cipation and  the  increase  of  rational  ideas.  The  altera- 
tion of  the  lot  was  incidental  to  the  regeneration  of  the 
person.  So  absolute  is  his  faith  in  the  soul  that  he 
renders  poetic  justice  to  its  manifestations,  seeing  in- 
dications of  its  presence  where  others  see  none,  and 
glorifying  where  others  are  inclined  to  pity.  The  ideal 
side  is  never  turned  away  from  him.  He  discerned  the 
angel  in  the  native  African,  the  saint  in  the  slave,  the 
devotee  in  the  idolater.  During  the  civil  war,  his  faith 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


347 


in  the  triumph  of  justice  and  the  establishment  of  a pure 
republic,  converted  every  defeat  into  a victory  ; as  in  the 
vision  of  Ezekiel,  the  Son  of  Man  was  ever  visible  riding 
on  the  monstrous  beasts.  If  at  any  time  his  sympathy 
has  seemed  withdrawn  from  any  class  of  social  reformers, 
it  has  been  because  the  phase  of  reform  they  presented 
held  forth  no  promise  of  intellectual  or  moral  benefit. 

Mr.  Johnson  illustrates  the  individualism  of  the  Trans- 
cendentalist.  While  Mr.  Charming  trusted  in  social 
combinations,  and  Mr.  Clarke  put  his  faith  in  organized 
religion,  he  had  a clear  eye  to  the  integrity  of  the  sep- 
arate soul.  He  attended  no  conventions,  joined  no  so- 
cieties, worked  with  no  associations,  had  confidence  in 
no  parties,  sects,  schemes,  or  combinations,  but  nursed 
his  solitary  thought,  delivered  his  personal  message, 
bore  his  private  witness,  and  there  rested. 

Were  Mr.  Johnson  more  known,  were  his  thoughts 
less  interior,  his  genius  less  retiring,  his  method  less 
private,  his  form  of  statement  less  close  and  severe,  he 
would  be  one  of  the  acknowledged  and  conspicuous  lead- 
ers of  the  ideal  philosophy  in  the  United  States,  as  he  is 
one  of  the  most  discerning,  penetrating,  sinew}',  and 
heroic  minds  of  his  generation. 

A contemporary  and  intimate  friend  of  Johnson,  a 
Transcendentalist  equally  positive,  but  of  more  mystical 
type,  is  Samuel  Longfellow.  The  two  are  interestingly 
contrasted,  and  by  contrast,  blended.  Between  them 
they  collected  and  published  a book  of  hymns — “ Hymns 
of  the  Spirit  ” — to  which  both  contributed  original 
pieces,  remarkably  rich  in  sentiment,  and  of  singular 


348 


TRA  NSCENDENTALISM. 


poetical  merit.  Johnson’s  were  the  more  intellectual, 
Longfellow’s  the  more  tender  ; Johnson’s  the  more  as- 
piring, Longfellow’s  the  more  devout;  Johnson’s  the 
more  heroic  and  passionate,.  Longfellow’s  the  more 
mystical  and  reflective.  Like  his  friend,  Longfellow  is 
quiet  and  retiring — not  so  scholarly,  not  so  learned,  but 
meditative.  His  sermons  are  lyrics  ; his  writings  are 
serene  contemplations,  not  white  and  cold,  but  glowing 
with  interior  and  suppressed  radiance.  A recluse  and 
solitary  he  is,  too,  though  sunny  and  cheerful ; a think- 
er, but  not  a dry  one  ; of  intellectual  sympathies,  warm 
and  generous  ; of  feeble  intellectual  antipathies,  being 
rather  unconscious  of  systems  that  are  foreign  to  him 
than  hostile  to  them.  He  enjoys  his  own  intellectual 
world  so  much,  it  is  so  large,  rich,  beautiful,  and  satis- 
fying, that  he  is  content  to  stay  in  it,  to.wander  up  and 
down  in  it,  and  hold  intercourse  with  its  inhabitants  ; 
yet  he  understands  his  own  system  well,  is  master  of  its 
ideas,  and  abundantly  competent  to  defend  them,  as  his 
essays  published  in  the  “ Radical”  during  its  short  ex 
istence,  testify.  He  has  published  little  ; ill  health  has 
prevented  his  taking  a forward  place  among  reformers 
and  teachers  ; but  where  he  has  ministered,  his  influence 
has  been  deep  and  pure.  Not  few  are  the  men  and 
women  who  ascribe  to  him  their  best  impulses,  and  owe 
him  a debt  of  lasting  gratitude  for  the  moral  faith  and 
intellectual  enthusiasm  he  awakened  in  them. 

Another  remarkable  man,  of  the  same  school,  but  of  still 
different  temper — a man  who  would  have  been  greatly 
distinguished  but  for  the  disabilities  of  sickness — is 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


349 


David  A.  Wasson.  Though  contemporary,  he  came  for- 
ward later  ; but  when  he  came,  it  was  with  a power  that 
gave  promise  of  the  finest  things.  As  his  latent  faith  in 
the  intuitive  philosophy  acquired  strength,  he  broke 
away  from  the  Orthodoxy  in  which  he  had  been  reared, 
with  an  impulse  that  carried  him  beyond  the  lines  of 
every  organized  body  in  Christendom,  and  bore  him 
into  the  regions  of  an  intellectual  faith,  where  he  found 
satisfaction.  He  has  been  a diligent  writer,  chiefly  on 
Ethical  and  Philosophical  themes,  on  the  border  land  of 
theology.  His  published  pamphlets  and  sermons  on  re- 
ligious questions,  even  the  best  of  them,  give  scarcely 
more  than  an  indication  of  his  extraordinary  powers. 
He  is  a poet  too,  of  fine  quality ; not  a singer  of  senti- 
mental songs,  nor  a spinner  of  elegant  fancies,  but  a 
discerner  of  the  spirit  of  beauty.  “ All’s  Well,” 
“Ideals,”  “The  Plover,”  “At  Sea,”  are  worthy  of  a 
place  in  the  best  collections. 

It  has  been  the  appointed  task  of  Mr.  Wasson  to  be 
on  the  alert  against  assaults  on  the  intuitive  philosophy 
from  the  side  of  material  science.  Like  Transcendental- 
'ists  generally,  he  has  accepted  the  principles  of  his  phil- 
osophy on  the  testimony  of  consciousness  and  as  self- 
evidencing  ; but  more  than  most,  he  has  regarded  them 
as  essential  to  the  maintenance  of  truths  of  the  spiritual 
order ; and  as  a believer  in  those  truths,  he  has  been 
holily  jealous  of  the  influence  of  men  like  Herbert 
Spencer,  Mill,  Bain,  and  the  latest  school  of  experimen- 
tal psychologists.  His  doctrine,  in  its  own  essence,  and 
as  related  to  the  objective  or  material  system,  is  closely 


35° 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


stated  in  the  essay  on  the  “ Nature  of  Religion,  con- 
tained in  the  volume,  entitled  “ Freedom  and  Fellow- 
ship in  Religion,”  recently  published  by  the  Free  Reli- 
gious Association.  It  is  not  easily  quotable,  but  must 
be  read  through  and  attentively.  Whoever  will  take 
pains  to  do  that,  may  understand,  not  merely  what  Mr. 
Wasson’s  position  is,  but  what  fine  analysis  the  intuitive 
philosophy  can  bring  to  its  defence.  A volume  of  Mr. 
Wasson’s  prose  essays  and  poems  would  be  a valuable 
contribution  to  the  literature  of  Transcendentalism  ; for 
he  is,  on.  the  whole,  the  most  capable  critic  on  its  side. 
Unfortunately  for  the  breadth  of  his  fame  and  the  reach 
of  his  power,  he  writes  for  thinkers,  and  the  multitude 
will  never  follow  in  his  train. 

The  names  of  the  disciples  and  prophets  of  Transcen- 
dentalism multiply  as  they  are  told  off.  There  is  T.  W. 
Higginson,  the  man  of  letters — whom  every  body  knows 
— a born  Transcendentalist,  and  an  enthusiastic  one, 
from  the  depth  of  his  moral  nature,  the  quickness  of 
his  poetic  sensibility,  his  love  of  the  higher  culture. 
His  sympathies  early  led  him  to  the  schools  of  the  ideal 
philosophy.  He  edited  the  works  of  Epictetus  ; speaks 
glowingly  on  the  “ Sympathy  of  Religions  is  inter- 
ested in  the  pacification  of  the  sects  and  churches  on 
the  basis  of  spiritual  fellowship  in  truths  of  universal 
import  ; lectures  appreciatingly  on  Mohammed  and 
Buddha  ; holds  Spencer  in  light  esteem  by  the  side  of 
Emerson.  In  the  controversial  period — which  was  not 
ended  when  he  left  the  Divinity  School — he  was  entirely 
committed  to  the  party  of progress.  Hennell’s  “Chris- 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


$!* 

tian  Theism  ” lay  on  his  table  at  Divinity  Hall.  He  was 
an  ally  of  Parker ; an  abolitionist  ; the  colonel  of  a 
black  regiment  in  the  civil  war ; and  from  the  first  has 
been  a champion  of  woman’s  claim  to  fulness  of  culture 
and  the  largest  political  rights.  A clear  and  powerful 
mind,  that  in  controversy  would  make  its  mark,  if  con- 
troversy were  to  its  taste,  as  it  is  not. 

Earlier  mention  should  have  been  made  of  John 
Weiss,  who  wrote  philosophical  articles  thirty  years  ago, 
that  won  encomiums  from  the  most  competent  judges — 
a student  at  Heidelberg,  a scholar  of  Kant,  and  an  ad- 
mirer of  his  system.  He  too  has  a paper  on  “ Religion 
and  Science,”  in  the  volume  of  “ Freedom  and  Fellow- 
ship,” which  will  convince  the  most  skeptical  that  the 
days  of  Transcendentalism  are  not  numbered  ; a man  of 
insight ; poetical,  according  to  Emerson’s  definition  ; su- 
premely intellectual,  capable  of  treading,  with  steady 
step,  the  hair  lines  of  thought  ; a poet  too,  as  verses  in 
the  “ Radical  ” bear  witness.  The  Philosophical  and 
^Esthetic  Letters  and  Essays  of  Schiller  were  presented 
to  the  American  public  by  his  hand.  He  wrote  the 
preface  to  the  American  edition  of  Smith’s  Memoir  of 
Fichte.  The  “ Boston  Quarterly,”  the  “ Massachusetts 
Quarterly,”  the  “ Christian  Examiner,”  the  “ Radical,” 
were  illuminated  by  his  brilliant  thoughts  on  subjects  of 
religious  philosophy.  The  volume  entitled  “American 
Religion,”  published  in  1871,  shows  the  power  of  the 
spiritual  philosophy  to  extract  noble  meanings  from  the 
circumstances  of  the  New  World.  Weiss  treads  the 
border-land  between  religion  and  science,  recognizing 


352 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


the  claims  of  both,  and  bringing  to  their  adjustment 
as  fine  intellectual  scales  as  any  of  his  contemporaries. 
His  method  is  peculiar  to  himself ; his  is  not  the  exult- 
ing mood  of  Emerson,  or  the  defiant  mood  of  Wasson  ; 
it  is  purely  poetic,  imaginative.  The  doctrine  of  the 
divine  immanence  is  glorious  in  his  eyes  ; the  faith  in 
personal  immortality  is  taken  into  the  inner  citadel  of 
metaphysics,  where  Parker  seldom  penetrated. 

These  men,  Weiss  and  Wasson  and  Higginson,  nursed 
in  the  transcendental  school,  thoroughly  imbued  with  its 
principles,  committed  to  them,  wedded  to  them  by  the 
conflicts  they  waged  in  their  defence  when  they  were 
assailed  by  literalists,  dogmatists,  and  formalists,  look 
out  now  upon  the  advancing  ranks  of  the  new  materialism 
as  the  holders  of  a royal  fortress  looked  out  on  a host  of 
insurgents  ; as  the  king  and  queen  of  France  looked  out 
on  the  revolution  from  the  palace  at  Versailles:  the 
onset  of  the  new  era  they  instinctively  dread,  feeling  that 
dignity,  princeliness,  and  spiritual  worth  are  at  stake. 
They  will  fight  admirably  to  the  last  ; but  should  they 
be  defeated,  it  is  yet  possible  that  the  revolution  may 
bring  compensations  to  humanity,  which  will  make 
good  the  overthrow  of  their  “ diademed  towers.” 

In  these  sketches  of  transcendental  leaders— as  in 
this  study  of  the  transcendental  movement, — few  have 
been  included  but  those  whom  the  intuitive  philos- 
ophy drew  away  from  their  former  church  connections 
and  gathered  into  a party  by  themselves — a party  of 
protestants  against  literalism  and  formalism.  The  trans- 
cendental philosophy  in  its  main  ideas,  was  held  by 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


353 


eminent  orthodox  divines  who  accepted  it  as  entirely  in 
accordance  with  the  Christian  scheme,  and  used  it  intact 
as  an  efficient  support  for  the  doctrines  of  the  church. 
The  most  eminent  divines  of  New  England  did  this,  and 
were  considered  entirely  orthodox  in  doing  it,  their 
Christian  faith  gaining  warmth  and  color  from  the  intuitive 
system.  As  has  already  been  said,  the  Trinitarian  scheme 
has  close  affinities  with  Platonism.  But  none  of  these 
men  called  themselves  or  were  called  Transcendentalists. 
The  Transcendentalist  substituted  the  principles  of  his 
Philosophy  and  the  inferences  therefrom  for  the  creed  of 
the  church,  and  became  a separatist.  With  him  the 
soul  superseded  the  church  ; the  revelations  of  the  soul 
took  the  place  of  bible,  creed  and  priesthood.  The  men 
that  have  been  named  all  did  this,  with  the  exception  of 
James  Freeman  Clarke,  who  adhered  to  the  ministry 
and  the  church.  But  his  intimacy  with  the  trans- 
cendental leaders,  and  his  cooperation  with  them  in 
some  of  their  most  important  works,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  unique  position  his  transcendental  ideas  compelled 
him  to  assume,  as  well  in  ecclesiastical  matters  as  in  social 
reform,  entitle  him  to  mention.  Convers  Francis — parish 
minister  at  Watertown  from  1819  till  1842,  and  Park- 
man,  professor  of  Pulpit  Eloquence  and  the  Pastoral 
Care  at  Cambridge  from  1842  till  1863 — though  never 
conspicuous  either  as  preacher  or  minister,  and  never 
recognized  as  a representative  apostle,  was  influential  as 
a believer  in  the  spiritual  philosophy,  among  young  men. 
To  him  Theodore  Parker  acknowledged  his  debt ; to 
him  successive  classes  of  divinity  students  owed  the 


354 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


stimulus  and  direction  that  carried  them  into  the  trans- 
cendental ranks;  Johnson,  Longfellow,  Higginson  were 
his  pupils  at  Cambridge,  and  carried  thence  ideas  which 
he  had  shaped  if  not  originated.  In  many  things  con- 
servative, disagreeing  on  some  points  with  Emerson, 
whom  he  revered  and  loved  as  a man,  regretting  much 
that  seemed  sarcastic,  arrogant,  derisive  in  Parker’s 
“ Discourse  of  Religion,”  he  gave  his  full  assent  to  the 
principles  of  the  intuitive  philosophy,  and  used  them  as 
the  pillars  of  Christianity.  Had  he  been  as  electric  and 
penetrating  as  he  was  truthful  and  obedient,  high- 
minded  and  sincere,  hearty  and  simple,  he  would  have 
been  a force  as  well  as  an  influence.  In  1836  he  foresaw 
the  rupture  between  “ the  Old  or  English  school  belonging 
to  the  sensual  and  empiric  philosophy, — and  the  New  or 
German  school,  belonging  to  the  spiritual  philosophy,” 
and  gave  all  his  sympathy  to  the  latter  as  having  the 
most  of  truth.  He  was  the  senior  member  of  the 
“Transcendental  Club,”  composed  of  the  liberal  think- 
ers who  met  to  discuss  literary  and  spiritual  subjects  on 
the  ground  of  reason  and  the  soul’s  intuitive  perceptions. 
With  deep  interest  he  followed  the  course  of  speculative 
and  practical  reform  to  the  close  of  his  life.  Some,  of 
whom  he  was  not  one,  engaged  in  the  discussions,  for  a 
little  while,  attended  the  meetings,  and  set  forth  bold 
opinions,  but  retired  within  their  close  fellowships  as 
soon  as  plans  for  propagandism  or  schemes  of  organiza- 
tion were  proposed.  Their  sympathies  were  literary 
and  within  the  recognized  limits  of  literature  ; but  they 
had  either  too  little  courage  of  conviction,  or  too  little 


MINOR  PROPHETS. 


355 


conviction,  to  depart  from  accustomed  ways  or  break 
with  existing  associations.  The  number  of  professed 
transcendentalists  in  the  restricted  sense,  was  never 
large,  and,  after  the  first  excitement,  did  not  greatly 
increase.  There  was.  but  one  generation  of  them.  The 
genuine  transcendentalists  became  so  in  their  youth, 
ripened  into  full  conviction  in  middle  life,  and,  as  a rule, 
continued  so  to  old  age.  The  desertions  from  the  faith 
were  not  many.  Half  a dozen  perhaps  became  catholics  ; 
as  many  became  episcopalians  ; but  by  far  the  greater 
part  maintained  their  principles  and  remained  serene 
dissenters,  “ in  the  world,  but  not  of  it.” 

Transcendentalism  was  an  episode  in  the  intellectual 
life  of  New  England;  an  enthusiasm,  a wave  of  sen- 
timent, a breath  of  mind  that  caught  up  such  as  were 
prepared  to  receive  it,  elated  them,  transported  them, 
and  passed  on, — no  man  knowing  whither  it  went.  Its 
influence  on  thought  and  life  was  immediate  and  power- 
ful. Religion  felt  it,  literature,  laws,  institutions.  To  the 
social  agitations  of  forty  years  ago  it  was  invaluable  as 
an  inspiration.  The  various  reforms  owed  everything 
to  it.  New  England  character  received  from  it  an  im- 
petus that  never  will  be  spent.  It  made  young  men  see 
visions  and  old  men  dream  dreams.  There  were 
mounts  of  Transfiguration  in  those  days,  upon  which 
multitudes  thought  they  communed  visibly  with  law- 
givers and  prophets.  They  could  not  stay  there  always, 
but  the  memory  will  never  cease  to  be  glorious.  Trans- 
cendentalism as  a special  phase  of  thought  and  feeling 
was  of  necessity  transient — having  done  its  work  it 


356 


TRANSCENDEN  TALISM. 


terminated  its  existence.  But  it  did  its  work,  and  its 
work  was  glorious.  Even  its  failures  were  necessary  as 
showing  what  could  not  be  accomplished,  and  its  ex- 
travagances as  defining  the  boundaries  of  wise  experi- 
ment. Its  successes  amply  redeemed  them  all,  and 
would  have  redeemed  them  had  they  been  more  glaring 
and  grotesque.  Had  it  bequeathed  nothing  more  than 
the  literature  that  sprung  from  it,  and  the  lives  of  the 
men  and  women  who  had  their  intellectual  roots  in  it, 
it  would  have  conferred  a lasting  benefit  on  America. 


LITERATURE. 


A FEW  words  on  the  literary  fruits  of  Transcendental- 
ism will  fitly  close  this  history  To  gather  them  all 
would  be  exceedingly  difficult,  but  that  is  not  neces- 
sary, and  will  not  be  required.  The  chief  results  have 
already  been  indicated.  The  indirect  influence  may  be 
left  unestimated  in  detail.  Transcendentalism  has  more 
than  justified  itself  in  literature.  The  ten  volumes  of 
Emerson’s  writings,  including  the  two  volumes  of 
poetry,  are  a literature  by  themselves  ; a classic  litera- 
ture that  loses  no  charm  by  age,  and  which  years  pre- 
pare new  multitudes  of  readers  to  enjoy. 

The  writings  of  Theodore  Parker  contain  much  that 
entitles  them  to  a permanent  place  in  letters.  Could 
they  be  sifted,  compressed,  -strained,  the  incidental  and 
personal  portion  discarded,  and  the  human  alone  pre- 
served, the  remainder  would  interest,  for  many  years  yet, 
a numerous  class  of  men.  In  their  present  condition  they 
are  too  diffuse,  as  well  as  too  voluminous  and  miscellane- 
ous to  be  manageable.  The  sermon  style  is  unsuited  to 
literature,  and  Parker’s  sermon  style  was  especially  so, 
from  its  excessive  redundancy.  He  paid  little  heed  to 
the  literary  laws  in  his  compositions,  which  were  all  de- 


353 


770.  i ATT  CE  N DENT  A L ISM. 


signed  for  immediate  effect.  Aside  from  the  fatal  injur} 
that  the  process  must  do  to  the  intellectual  harmony  of 
the  work,  there  is  an  objection  to  abbreviating  and 
abstracting  when  an  author  does  not  perform  the  task 
for  himself,  for  no  other  is  credited  with  ability  or 
judgment  to  do  it  for  him.  In  Parker’s  case  the  difficulty 
would  be  more  than  commonly  great,  for  the  reason 
that  it  is  not  a.  question  of  omitting  volumes,  or  even 
chapters,  but  of  straining  the  contents  of  pages, — - 
“boiling  down”  masses  of  material,  till  the  spiritual 
residue  alone  is  left.  There  is  no  likelihood  that  such  a 
task  will  ever  be  performed,  and  therefore  his  writings 
must  be  placed  in  the  rank  of  occasional  literature,  valu- 
able for  many  days,  but  not  precious  for  generations. 

Brownson’s  writings  were  astonishingly  able,  particu- 
larly his  discussions  in  the  Boston  “ Quarterly  Review 
but  their  interest  ceased  with  their  occasion.  His  philo- 
sophical pieces  have  no  value.  They  served  polemically 
an  incidental  purpose,  but  having  no  merit  of  idea 
or  construction,  they  perished. 

The  papers  of  Mr.  Alcott  in  “Tablets”  and  “ Con- 
cord Days,”  are  thoughtful  and  quaint,  written  with  a 
lucid  simplicity  that  will  always  possess  a charm  for  a 
small  class  of  people  ; but  they  have  not  the  breadth  of 
humanity  that  commends  writings  to  the  general  accept- 
ance ; nor  have  they  the  raciness  that  makes  books  of 
their  class  spicy  and  aromatic  to  the  literary  epicures 
who  never  tire  of  Selden  or  Sir  Thomas  Browne. 

The  writings  of  Margaret  Fuller  possess  a lasting 
value,  and  will  continue  to  be  read  for  their  wit  and  wis 


LITERATURE. 


359 


dom,  when  those  of  her  more  ambitious  companions 
are  forgotten.  For  she  treated  ever-recurring  themes 
in  a living  way— vigorous  and  original,  but  human. 
Her  taste  was  educated  by  study  of  the  Greek  classics, 
and  she  had  the  appreciation  of  form  that  belongs  to 
the'  literary  order  of  mind.  Her  writings  are  not  for 
those  who  read  as  they  run,  but  for  those  who  read  for 
instruction  and  suggestion.  As  the  number  of  such  in- 
creases, it  is  not  unreasonable  to  expect  an  increase  in 
her  audience.  With  her,  thinking  and  talking  were  se- 
rious matters.  She  discussed  nothing  in  a spirit  of 
frivolity;  her  thoughts  came  from  a penetrating,  and 
not  from  a merely  acute  mind  ; the  trains  of  reflection 
that  she  started  are  still  in  motion,  from  the  momentum 
she  gave,  and  the  goal  she  aimed  at  is  not  yet  discerned 
by  professed  disciples  of  her  own  ideas. 

The  “ Dial  ” is  a treasury  of  literary  wealth.  There 
are  pieces  in  it  of  prose  and  verse  that  should  not  and 
will  not  be  lost.  The  character  for  oddity  and  extrava- 
gance which  Transcendentalism  bore  in  its  day,  and  has 
borne  on  the  strength  of  tradition  ever  since,  would 
have  to  be  borne  no  longer,  if  the  contents  of  that  re- 
markable magazine  could  be  submitted  to  the  calmer 
judgment  of  to-day.  Not  that  the  sixteen  rich  numbers 
contain  a great  deal  that  would  be  pleasing  to  the  hasty 
mental  habit  of  this  generation,  but  to  the  lovers  ot 
earnest  thinking  and  eloquent  writing  they  have  the 
flavor  of  a choice  intellectual  vintage.  It  is  the  misfor- 
tune of  periodical  literature  to  be  ephemeral.  The 
magazine  sows,  but  does, not  harvest.  It  brings  thoughts 


36° 


TRA  ArS  C E MDE  N TAL  ISM. 


suddenly  to  the  light,  but  buries  them  in  season  for  the 
next  issue,  which  must  have  its  turn  to  live.  Volumes 
that  are  compiled  from  magazines  have  lost  their  bloom. 
The  chapters  have  already  discharged  their  virtue,  and 
spent  their  perfume  on  the  air  ; the  smell  of  the  “ old 
numbers  ” clings  to  the  pages,  which  are  not  of  to-day, 
but  of  the  day  before  yesterday.  We  call  for  living 
mind,  and  fancy  that  butterflies,  because  we  see  them 
fluttering  in  the  garden,  are  more  alive  than  the  phoenix 
that  has  risen  unscathed  from  the  ashes  of  consuming  fires. 

The  thoughts  of  William  Henry  Channing,  though 
keen,  brilliant,  of  great  potency  in  their  time,  and  ad- 
mirable in  expression,  were  addressed  to  the  exigencies 
of  the  hour,  and  absorbed  by  them.  Such  as  were 
committed  to  paper  in  the  “ Harbinger,”  the  “ Spirit  of 
the  Age,”  and  other  periodicals,  will  never  be  heard  of 
again  ; and  such  as  were  printed  in  books  passed  from 
memory  with  the  themes  he  dealt  with.  His  biographi- 
cal works  deserve  a place  with  the  prominent  contribu- 
tions of  that  department. 

The  poetry  of  William  Ellery  Channing  has  a recog- 
nized place  in  American  literature,  though  much  of  it 
has  disappeared.  Dana’s  “ Household  Book  of  Poetry  ” 
contains  a single  piece  of  his  on  “ Death,”  that  is  char- 
acterized by  a depth  of  sentiment  and  a richness  of 
expression,  which  his  more  distinguished  contempo- 
rary, Mr.  Bryant,  does  not  surpass.  Mr.  Emerson’s 
“ Parnassus”  contains  eight,  the  last  of  which,  entitled 
“ A Poet’s  Hope,”  closes  with  the  wonderful  line — 

“ If  my  bark  sink,  ’tis  to  another  sea.” 


LITERATURE.  361 

Of  Cranch’s  poems,  several  have  been  adopted  by 
collectors,— notably  the  lines — 

“ Thought  is  deeper  than  all  speech — 

Feeling  deeper  than  all  thought; 

Soul  to  soul  can  never  teach 
What  unto  itself  was  taught.” 

Weiss,  Wasson,  and  Higginson  are  true  artists  in 
letters.  The  essays  of  the  last  named  of  the  three  are 
the  best  known,  partly  by  reason  of  their  greater  popu- 
larity of  theme;  but  Mr.  Wasson’s  discussions  on  ethi- 
cal and  philosophical  subjects  are  distinguished  by  their 
luminous  quality.  Except  for  the  vein  of  unhopefulness 
- — partly  due  to  ill  health — that  pervades  them,  the  chill 
communicated  by  the  regions  he  sails  by,  three  or  four 
of  them  would,  without  hesitation,  be  classed  among 
the  gems  of  speculative  literature.  The  best  work  of 
Weiss,  his  lectures  on  the  Greek  Ideas  for  example, 
stands  apart  by  itself,  perhaps  unrivalled  as  an  at- 
tempt to  unveil  the  glory  of  the  ancient  mythology. 
The  interpretation  of  religious  symbols  is  his  province, 
where,  by  the  power  of  “ sympathetic  perception,” — to 
use  Mr.  Wasson’s  fine  phrase — he  penetrates  the  secret 
of  mysteries,  and  brings  the  soul  of  dark  enigmas  to 
the  light ; and  his  beauty  of  expression  more  than 
restores  to  the  imagination  the  splendors  which  the  un- 
poetic  interpreter  reduces  to  meretricious  fancy. 

The  influence  of  Transcendentalism  on  pulpit  litera- 
ture— if  there  be  such  a thing — has  probably  been  suffi- 
ciently indicated  ; but  the  privilege  of  printing  a sermon 
16 


362 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


of  Mr.  Emerson’s — the  only  one  ever  published,  the 
famous  one,  that  was  the  occasion  of  his  leaving  the 
ministry  and  adopting  the  profession  of  literature  — 
affords  opportunity  for  a special  illustration.  The  sermon 
— which  is  interesting  in  itself,  from  the  subject,  the 
occasion  that  called  it  forth,  the  insight  it  gives  into  Mr. 
Emerson’s  mind  and  character — is  interesting  as  an  ex- 
ample of  the  method  and  spirit  which  Transcendentalism 
introduced  into  discussions  that  are  usually  dry  and 
often  angry. 


The  Kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink,  but  righteousness,  and 
peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. — Romans  XIV.  17. 


In  the  history  of  the  Church  no  subject  has  been  more 
fruitful  of  controversy  than  the  Lord’s  Supper.  There 
never  has  been  any  unanimity  in  the  understanding  of 
its  nature,  nor  any  uniformity  in  the  mode  of  celebrating 
it.  Without  considering  the  frivolous  questions  which  have 
been  lately  debated  as  to  the  posture  in  which  men 
should  partake  of  it;  whether  mixed  or  unmixed  wine 
should  be  served ; whether  leavened  or  unleavened 
bread  should  be  broken  ; the  questions  have  been  settled 
differently  in  every  church,  who  should  be  admitted  to 
the  feast,  and  how  often  it  should  be  prepared.  In  the 
Catholic  Church,  infants  were  at  one  time  permit- 
ted and  then  forbidden  to  partake  ; and,  since  the 
ninth  century,  the  laity  receive  the  bread  only,  the  cup 
being  reserved  to  the  priesthood.  So,  as  to  the  time 
of  the  solemnity.  In  the  fourth  Lateran  Council,  it  was 
decreed  that  any  believer  should  communicate  at  least 
once  in  a year— at  Easter.  Afterwards  it  was  determine  d 
that  this  Sacrament  should  be  received  three  times  in  the 
year — at  Easter,  Whitsuntide,  and  Christmas.  But  more 
important  controversies  have  arisen  respecting  its  na- 


364 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


ture.  The  famous  question  of  the  Real  Presence  was 
the  main  controversy  between  the  Church  of  England  and 
the  Church  of  Rome.  The  doctrine  of  the  Consub- 
stantiation  taught  by  Luther  was  denied  by  Calvin.  In 
the  Church  of  England,  Archbishops  Laud  and  Wake 
maintained  that  the  elements  were  an  Eucharist  or  sac- 
rifice of  Thanksgiving  to  God  ; Cudworth  and  Warbur- 
ton,  that  this  was  not  a sacrifice,  but  a sacrificial  feast ; 
and  Bishop  Hoadley,  that  it  was  neither  a sacrifice  nor 
a feast  after  sacrifice,  but  a simple  commemoration. 
And  finally,  it  is  now  near  two  hundred  years  since  the 
Society  of  Quakers  denied  the  authority  of  the  rite 
altogether,  and  gave  good  reasons  for  disusing  it. 

I allude  to  these  facts  only  to  show  that,  so  far  from 
the  supper  being  a tradition  in  which  men  are  fully 
agreed,  there  has  always  been  the  widest  room  for 
difference  of  opinion  upon  this  particular. 

Having  recently  given  particular  attention  to  this  sub- 
ject, I was  led  to  the  conclusion  that  Jesus  did  not  intend 
to  establish  an  institution  for  perpetual  observance 
when  he  ate  the  Passover  with  his  disciples  ; and,  fur- 
ther, to  the  opinion,  that  it  is  not  expedient  to  celebrate 
it  as  we  do.  I shall  now  endeavor  to  state  distinctly 
my  reasons  for  these  two  opinions. 

I.  The  authority  of  the  rite. 

An  account  of  the  last  supper  of  Christ  with  his  disci- 
ples is  given  by  the  four  Evangelists,  Matthew,  Mark, 
Luke,  and  John. 

In  St.  Matthew’s  Gospel  (Matt.  XXVI.  26-30)  are  re- 
corded the  words  of  Jesus  in  giving  bread  and  wine  on 


LITERATURE. 


365 


that  occasion  to  his  disciples,  but  no  expression  occurs 
intimating  that  this  feast  was  hereafter  to  be  commem- 
orated. 

In  St.  Mark  (Mark  XIV.  23)  the  same  words  are  re- 
corded, and  still  with  no  intimation  that  the  occasion 
was  to  be  remembered. 

St.  Luke  (Luke  XXII.  15),  after  relating  the  breaking 
of  the  bread,  has  these  words  : This  do  in  remembrance 
of  me. 

In  St.  John,  although  other  occurrences  of  the  same 
evening  are  related,  this  whole  transaction  is  passed 
over  without  notice. 

Now  observe  the  facts.  Two  of  the  Evangelists, 
namely,  Matthew  and  John,  were  of  the  twelve  disciples, 
and  were  present  on  that  occasion.  Neither  of  them 
drops  the  slightest  intimation  of  any  intention  on  the 
part  of  Jesus  to  set  up  anything  permanent.  John, 
especially,  the  beloved  disciple,  who  has  recorded  with 
minuteness  the  conversation  and  the  transactions  of 
that  memorable  evening,  has  quite  omitted  such  a notice. 
Neither  does  it  appear  to  have  come  to  the  knowledge 
of  Mark  who,  though  not  an  eye-witness,  relates  the 
other  facts.  This  material  fact,  that  the  occasion  was 
to  be  remembered,  is  found  in  Luke  alone,  who  was  not 
present.  There  is  no  reason,  however,  that  we  know, 
for  rejecting  the  account  of  Luke.  I doubt  not,  the 
expression  was  used  by  Jesus.  I shall  presently  con- 
sider its  meaning.  I have  only  brought  these  accounts 
together,  that  you  may  judge  whether  it  is  likely  that 
a solemn  institution,  to  be  continued  to  the  end  of  time 


366 


TRANS  CENDENTALISM. 


by  all  mankind,  as  they  should  come,  nation  after 
nation,  within  the  influence  of  the  Christian  religion, 
would  have  been  established  in  this  slight  manner — in  a 
manner  so  slight,  that  the  intention  of  commemorating 
it  should  not  appear,  from  their  narrative,  to  have 
caught  the  ear  or  dwelt  in  the  mind  of  the  only  two 
among  the  twelve  who  wrote  down  what  happened. 

Still  we  must  suppose  that  the  expression,  11  This  do 
in  remembrance  of  me,”  had  come  to  the  ear  of  Luke 
from  some  disciple  who  was  present.  What  did  it  really 
signify  ? It  is  a prophetic  and  an  affectionate  expression. 
Jesus  is  a Jew,  sitting  with  his  countrymen,  celebrating 
their  national  feast.  He  thinks  of  his  own  impending 
death,  and  wishes  the  minds  of  his  disciples  to  be  pre- 
pared for  it.  “ When  hereafter,”  he  says  to  them,  “ you 
shall  keep  the  Passover,  it  will  have  an  altered  aspect  to 
your  eyes.  It  is  now  a historical  covenant  of  God  with 
the  Jewish  nation.  Hereafter,  it  will  remind  you  of  a 
new  covenant  sealed  with  my  blood.  In  years  to  come, 
as  long  as  your  people  shall  come  up  to  Jerusalem  to 
keep  this  feast,  the  connection  which  has  subsisted  be- 
tween us  will  give  a new  meaning  in  your  eyes  to  the 
national  festival,  as  the  anniversary  of  my  death.”  I see- 
natural  feeling  and  beauty  in  the  use  of  such  language 
from  Jesus,  a friend  to  his  friends  ; I can  readily  imagine 
that  he  was  willing  and  desirous,  when  his  disciples  met, 
his  memory  should  hallow  their  intercourse;  but  I can- 
not bring  myself  to  believe  that  in  the  use  of  such  an 
expression  he  looked  beyond  the  living  generation,  be- 
yond the  abolition  of  the  festival  he  was  celebrating, 


LITERATURE.  367 

and  the  scattering  of  the  nation,  and  meant  to  impose  a 
memorial  feast  upon  the  whole  world. 

Without  presuming  to  fix  precisely  the  purpose  in  the 
mind  of  Jesus,  you  will  see  that  many  opinions  may  be 
entertained  of  his  intention,  all  consistent  with  the  opin- 
ion that  he  did  not  design  a perpetual  ordinance.  He 
may  have  foreseen  that  his  disciples  would  meet  to  re- 
member him,  and  that  with  good  effect.  It  may  have 
crossed  his  mind  that  this  would  be  easily  continued  a 
hundred  or  a thousand  years — as  men  more  easily  trans- 
mit a form  than  a virtue — and  yet  have  been  altogether 
out  of  his  purpose  to  fasten  it  upon  men  in  all  times  and 
all  countries. 

But  though  the  words,  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me, 
do  not  occur  in  Matthew,  Mark,  or  John,  and  although  it 
should  be  granted  us  that,  taken  alone,  they  do  not 
necessarily  import  so  much  as  is  usually  thought,  yet 
many  persons  are  apt  to  imagine  that  the  very  striking 
and  personal  manner  in  which  this  eating  and  drinking 
is  described,  indicates  a striking  and  formal  purpose  to 
found  a festival.  And  I admit  that  this  impression  might 
probably  be  left  upon  the  mind  of  one  who  read  only 
the  passages  under  consideration  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. But  this  impression  is  removed  by  reading  any 
narrative  of  the  mode  in  which  the  ancient  or  the  modern 
Jews  have  kept  the  Passover.  It  is  then  perceived  that 
the  leading  circumstances  in  the  Gospels  are  only  a 
faithful  account  of  that  ceremony.  Jesus  did  not  cele- 
brate the  Passover,  and  afterwards  the  Supper,  but  the 
Supper  was  the  Passover.  He  did  with  his  disciples 


368 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


exactly  what  every  master  of  a family  in  Jerusalem  was 
doing  at  the  same  hour  with  his  household.  It  appears 
that  the  Jews  ate  the  lamb  and  the  unleavened  bread, 
and  drank  wine  after  a prescribed  manner.  It  was  the 
custom  for  the  master  of  the  feast  to  break  the  bread 
and  to  bless  it,  using  this  formula,  which  the  Talmudists 
have  preserved  to  us,  “ Blessed  be  Thou,  O Lord  our 
God,  the  King  of  the  world,  who  hast  produced  this  food 
from  the  earth,” — and  to  give  it  to  every  one  at  the 
table.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  master  of  the  family  to 
take  the  cup  which  contained  the  wine,  and  to  bless  it, 
saying,  “Blessed  be  Thou,  O Lord,  who  givest  us  the 
fruit  of  the  vine,” — and  then  to  give  the  cup  to  all. 
Among  the  modern  Jews  who  in  their  dispersion  retain 
the  Passover,  a hymn  is  also  sung  after  this  ceremony, 
specifying  the  twelve  great  works  done  by  God  for  the 
deliverance  of  their  fathers  out  of  Egypt. 

But  still  it  may  be  asked,  why  did  Jesus  make  expres- 
sions so  extraordinary  and  emphatic  as  these—"  This  is 
my  body  which  is  broken  for  you.  Take  ; eat.  This 
is  my  blood  which  is  shed  for  you.  Drink  it.” — I reply 
they  are  not  extraordinary  expressions  from  him. 
They  were  familiar  in  his  mouth.  He  always  taught  by 
parables  and  symbols.  It  was  the  national  way  of 
teaching  and  was  largely  used  by  him.  Remember  the 
readiness  which  he  always  showed  to  spiritualize  every 
occurrence.  He  stooped  and  wrote  on  the  sand.  He 
admonished  his  disciples  respecting  the  leaven  of  the 
Pharisees.  He  instructed  the  woman  of  Samaria  re- 
specting living  water.  He  permitted  himself  to  be 


LITERATURE. 


369 


anointed,  declaring  that  it  was  for  his  interment.  He 
washed  the  feet  of  his  disciples.  These  are  admitted 
to  be  symbolical  actions  and  expressions.  Here,  in 
like  manner,  he  calls  the  bread  his  body,  and  bids  the 
disciples  eat.  He  had  used  the  same  expression  re- 
peatedly before.  The  reason  why  St.  John  does  not 
repeat  his  words  on  this  occasion,  seems  to  be  that  he 
had  reported  a similar  discourse  of  Jesus  to  the  people 
of  Capernaum  more  at  length  already  (John  VI.  27). 
He  there  tells  the  Jews,  “ Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the 
Son  of  Man  and  drink  His  blood,  ye  have  no  life  in 
you.”  And  when  the  Jews  on  that  occasion  complained 
that  they  did  not  comprehend  what  he  meant,  he  added 
for  their  better  understanding,  and  as  if  for  our  under- 
standing, that  we  might  not  think  his  body  was  to  be 
actually  eaten,  that  he  only  meant,  we  should  live  by  his 
commandment . He  closed  his  discourse  with  these  ex- 
planatory expressions  : “The  flesh  profiteth  nothing; 

the  words  that  I speak  to  you,  they  are  spirit  and  they 
are  life.” 

Whilst  I am  upon  this  topic,  I cannot  help  remarking 
that  it  is  not  a little  singular  that  we  should  have  pre- 
served this  rite  and  insisted  upon  perpetuating  one  sym- 
bolical act  of  Christ  whilst  we  have  totally  neglected  all 
others — particularly  one  other  which  had  at  least  an 
equal  claim  to  our  observance.  Jesus  washed  the  feet 
of  his  disciples  and  told  them  that,  as  he  had  washed 
their  feet,  they  ought  to  wash  one  another’s  feet ; for  he 
had  given  them  an  example,  that  they  should  do  as  he 
had  done  to  them.  I ask  any  person  who  believes  the 
16* 


37° 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


Slipper  to  have  been  designed  by  Jesus  to  be  commem- 
orated forever,  to  go  and  read  the  account  of  it  in  the 
other  Gospels,  and  then  compare  with  it  the  account  of 
this  transaction  in  St.  John,  and  tell  me  if  this  be  not 
much  more  explicitly  authorized  than  the  Supper.  It 
only  differs  in  this,  that  we  have  found  the  Supper  used 
in  New  England  and  the  washing  of  the  feet  not.  But 
if  we  had  found  it  an  established  rite  in  our  churches, 
on  grounds  of  mere  authority,  it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  have  argued  against  it.  That  rite  is  used 
by  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  by  the  Sandemanians. 
It  has  been  very  properly  dropped  by  other  Christians. 
Why  ? For  two  reasons  : (i)  because  it  was  a local  cus- 
tom, and  unsuitable  in  western  countries  ; and  (2)  be- 
cause it  was  typical,  and  all  understand  that  humility  is 
the  thing  signified.  But  the  Passover  was  local  too,  and 
does  not  concern  us,  and  its  bread  and  wine  were  typi- 
cal, and  do  not  help  us  to  understand  the  redemption 
which  they  signified. 

These  views  of  the  original  account  of  the  Lord’s 
Supper  lead  me  to  esteem  it  an  occasion  full  of  solemn 
and  prophetic  interest,  but  never  intended  by  Jesus 
to  be  the  foundation  of  a perpetual  institution. 

It  appears  however  in  Christian  history  that  the  disci- 
ples had  very  early  taken  advantage  of  these  impressive 
words  of  Christ  to  hold  religious  meetings,  where  they 
broke  bread  and  drank  wine  as  symbols. 

I look  upon  this  fact  as  very  natural  in  the  circum- 
stances of  the  church.  The  disciples  lived  together ; 
they  threw  all  their  property  into  a common  stock  ; 


LI  TER  A TURK. 


371 


they  were  bound  together  by  the  memory  of  Christ,  and 
nothing  could  be  more  natural  than  that  this  eventful 
evening  should  be  affectionately  remembered  by  them  ; 
that  they,  Jews  like  Jesus,  should  adopt  his  expressions 
and  his  types,  and  furthermore,  that  what  was  done  with 
peculiar  propriety  by  them,  his  personal  friends,  with 
less  propriety  should  come  to  be  extended  to  their  com- 
panions also.  In  this  way  religious  feasts  grew  up 
among  the  early  Christians.  They  were  readily  adopted 
by  the  Jewish  converts  who  were  familiar  with  religious 
feasts,  and  also  by  the  Pagan  converts  whose  idolatrous 
worship  had  been  made  up  of  sacred  festivals,  and  who 
very  readily  abused  these  to  gross  riot,  as  appears  from 
the  censures  of  St.  Paul.  Many  persons  consider  this 
fact,  the  observance  of  such  a memorial  feast  by  the 
early  disciples,  decisive  of  the  question  whether  it  ought 
to  be  observed  by  us.  For  my  part  I see  nothing  to 
wonder  at  in  its  originating  with  them ; all  that  is 
surprising  is  that  it  should  exist  among  us.  There 
was  good  reason  for  his  personal  friends  to  remem- 
ber their  friend  and  repeat  his  words.  It  was  only 
too  probable  that  among  the  half  converted  Pagans 
and  Jews,  any  rite,  any  form,  would  find  favor, 
whilst  yet  unable  to  comprehend  the  spiritual  character 
of  Christianity. 

The  circumstance,  however,  that  St.  Paul  adopts 
these  views,  has  seemed  to  many  persons  conclusive  in 
favor  of  the  institution.  I am  of  opinion  that  it  is 
wholly  upon  the  epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  and  not 
upon  the  Gospels,  that  the  ordinance  stands.  Upon  this 


372 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


matter  of  St.  Paul’s  view  of  the  Supper,  a few  impor- 
tant considerations  must  be  stated. 

The  end  which  he  has  in  view,  in  the  eleventh  chap- 
ter of  the  first  epistle  is,  not  to  enjoin  upon  his  friends 
to  observe  the  Supper,  but  to  censure  their  abuse  of  it. 
We  quote  the  passage  now-a-days  as  if  it  enjoined 
attendance  upon  the  Supper  ; but  he  wrote  it  merely  to 
chide  them  for  drunkenness.  To  make  their  enormity 
plainer  he  goes  back  to  the  origin  of  this  religious  feast 
to  show  what  sort  of  feast  that  was,  out  of  which  this 
riot  of  theirs  came,  and  so  relates  the  transactions  of 
the  Last  Supper.  “ I have  received  of  the  Lord,"  he 
says,  “ that  which  I delivered  to  you.”  By  this  expression 
it  is  often  thought  that  a miraculous  communication  is  im- 
plied ; but  certainly  without  good  reason,  if  it  is  remem- 
bered that  St.  Paul  was  living  in  the  lifetime  of  all  the 
apostles  who  could  give  him  an  account  of  the  transac- 
tion ; and  it  is  contrary  to  all  reason  to  suppose  that 
God  should  work  a miracle  to  convey  information  that 
could  so  easily  be  got  by  natural  means.  So  that  the 
import  of  the  expression  is  that  he  had  received  the 
story  of  an  eye-witness  such  as  we  also  possess. 

But  there  is  a material  circumstance  which  diminishes 
our  confidence  in  the  correctness  of  the  Apostle’s  view  ; 
and  that  is,  the  observation  that  his  mind  had  not 
escaped  the  prevalent  error  of  the  primitive  church,  the 
belief,  namely,  that  the  second  coming  of  Christ  would 
shortly  occur,  until  which  time,  he  tells  them,  this  feast 
was  to  be  kept.  Elsewhere  he  tells  them,  that,  at  that 
time  the  world  would  be  burnt  up  with  fire,  and  a new 


LITERATURE. 


373 


government  established,  in  which  the  Saints  would  sit 
on  thrones  ; so  slow  were  the  disciples  during  the  life, 
and  after  the  ascension  of  Christ,  to  receive  the  idea 
which  we  receive,  that  his  second  coming  was  a spirit- 
ual kingdom,  the  dominion  of  his  religion  in  the  hearts 
of  men,  to  be  extended  gradually  over  the  whole  world. 

In  this  manner  we  may  see  clearly  enough  how  this 
ancient  ordinance  got  its  footing  among  the  early  Chris- 
tians, and  this  single  expectation  of  a speedy  reappear- 
ance of  a temporal  Messiah,  which  kept  its  influence 
even  over  so  spiritual  a man  as  St.  Paul,  would  natu- 
rally tend  to  preserve  the  use  of  the  rite  when  once 
established. 

We  arrive  then  at  this  conclusion,  first,  that  it  does  | 
not  appear,  from  a careful  examination  of  the  account 
of  the  Last  Supper  in  the  Evangelists,  that  it  was 
designed  by  Jesus  to  be  perpetual ; secondly,  that  it  does 
not  appear  that  the  opinion  of  St.  Paul,  all  things  con- 
sidered, ought  to  alter  our  opinion  derived  from  the 
evangelists. 

One  general  remark  before  quitting  this  branch  of  the 
subject.  We  ought  to  be  cautious  in  taking  even  the 
best  ascertained  opinions  and  practices  of  the  primitive 
church,  for  our  own.  If  it  could  be  satisfactorily  shown 
that  they  esteemed  it  authorized  and  to  be  transmitted 
forever,  that  does  not  settle  the  question  for.  us.  We 
know  how  inveterately  they  were  attached  to  their  Jewish 
prejudices,  and  how  often  even  the  influence  of  Christ 
failed  to  enlarge  their  views.  On  every  other  subject 
succeeding  times  have  learned  to  form  a judgment  more 


374 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


irl  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  Christianity  than  was  the 
practice  of  the  early  ages. 

But  it  is  said  : “ Admit  that  the  rite  was  not  designed 
to  be  perpetual.  What  harm  doth  it  ? Here  it  stands, 
generally  accepted,  under  some  form,  by  the  Christian 
world,  the  undoubted  occasion  of  much  good  ; is  it  not 
better  it  should  remain  ? ” 

II.  This  is  the  question  of  expediency. 

I proceed  to  state  a few  objections  that  in  my  judg- 
ment lie  against  its  use  in  its  present  form. 

i.  If  the  view  which  I have  taken  of  the  history  of 

Cthe  institution  be  correct,  then  the  claim  of  authority 
should  be  dropped  in  administering  it.  You  say,  every 
time  you  celebrate  the  rite,  that  Jesus  enjoined  it ; and 
the  whole  language  you  use  conveys  that  impression. 
But  if  you  read  the  New  Testament  as  I do,  you  do  not 
believe  he  did. 

2.  It  has  seemed  to  me  that  the  use  of  this  ordinance 
tends  to  produce  confusion  in  our  views  of  the  relation 
of  the  soul  to  God.  It  is  the  old  objection  to  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity, — that  the  true  worship  was  trans- 
ferred from  God  to  Christ,  or  that  such  confusion  was 
introduced  into  the  soul,  that  an  undivided  worship  was 
given  nowhere.  Is  not  that  the  effect  of  the  Lord’s 
Supper  ? I appeal  now  to  the  convictions  of  communi- 
cants— and  ask  such  persons  whether  they  have  not  been 
occasionally  conscious  of  a painful  confusion  of  thought 
between  the  worship  due  to  God  and  the  commemora- 
tion due  to  Christ.  For,  the  service  does  not  stand 
upon  the  basis  of  a voluntary  act,  but  is  imposed  by 


LITERATURE. 


375 


authority.  It  is  an  expression  of  gratitude  to  Christ, 
enjoined  by  Christ.  There  is  an  endeavor  to  keep  Jesus 
in  mind,  whilst  yet  the  prayers  are  addressed  to  God. 
I fear  it  is  the  effect  of  this  ordinance  to  clothe  Jesus 
'with  an  authority  which  he  never  claimed  and  which 
distracts  the  mind  of  the  worshipper.  I know  our 
opinions  differ  much  respecting  the  nature  and  offices 
of  Christ,  and  the  degree  of  veneration  to  which  he  is 
entitled.  I am  so  much  a Unitarian  as  this  : that  I 
believe  the  human  mind  cannot  admit  but  one  God,  and 
that  every  effort  to  pay  religious  homage  to  more  than 
one  being,  goes  to  take  away  all  right  ideas.  I appeal, 
brethren,  to  your  individual  experience.  In  the 
moment  when  you  make  the  least  petition  to  God, 
though  it  be  but  a silent  wish  that  he  may  approve  you, 
or  add  one  moment  to  your  life, — do  you  not,  in  the 
very  act,  necessarily  exclude  all  other  beings  from  your 
thought?  In  that  act,  the  soul  stands  alone  with  God, 
and  Jesus  is  no  more  present  to  the  mind  than  your 
brother  or  your  child. 

But  is  not  Jesus  called  in  Scripture  the  Mediator  ? 
He  is  the  mediator  in  that  only  sense  in  which  possibly 
any  being  can  mediate  between  God  and  man — that  is  an 
Instructor  of  man.  He  teaches  us  how  to  become  like 
God.  And  a true  disciple  of  Jesus  will  receive  the  light 
he  gives  most  thankfully ; but  the  thanks  he  offers, 
and  which  an  exalted  being  will  accept,  are  not  com- 
pliments— commemorations, — but  the  use  of  that  instruc- 
tion. 

3.  Passing  other  objections,  I come  to  this,  that  the 


376 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


use  of  the  elements , however  suitable  to  the  people  and 
the  modes  of  thought  in  the  East,  where  it  origin- 
iated,  is  foreign  and  unsuited  to  affect  us.  Whatever 
long  usage  and  strong  association  may  have  done  in 
some  individuals  to  deaden  this  repulsion,  I apprehend 
that  their  use  is  rather  tolerated  than  loved  by  any  of 

Cus.  We  are  not  accustomed  to  express  our  thoughts 
or  emotions  by  symbolical  actions.  Most  men  find  the 
bread  and  wine  no  aid  to  devotion  and  to  some,  it  is  a 
painful  impediment.  To  eat  bread  is  one  thing  ; to  love 
the  precepts  of  Christ  and  resolve  to  obey  them  is  quite 
another. 

The  statement  of  this  objection  leads  me  to  say  that  I 
think  this  difficulty,  wherever  it  is  felt,  to  be  entitled  to 
the  greatest  weight.  It  is  alone  a sufficient  objection  to 
the  ordinance.  It  is  my  own  objection.  This  mode  of 
commemorating  Christ  is  not  suitable  to  me.  That  is 
reason  enough  why  I should  abandon  it.  If  I believed 
that  it  wras  enjoined  by  Jesus  on  his  disciples,  and  that 
he  even  contemplated  making  permanent  this  mode  of 
commemoration,  every  way  agreeable  to  an  eastern  mind, 
and  yet,  on  trial,  it  was  disagreeable  to  my  own  feelings, 
I should  not  adopt  it.  I should  choose  other  ways  which, 
as  more  effectual  upon  me,  he  would  approve  more. 
For  I choose  that  my  remembrances  of  him  should  be 
pleasing,  affecting,  religious.  I will  love  him  as  a glori- 
fied friend,  after  the  free  way  of  friendship,  and  not  pay 
him  a stiff  sign  of  respect,  as  men  do  to  those  whom  they 
fear.  A passage  read  from  his  discourses,  a moving 
provocation  to  works  like  his,  any  act  or  meeting  which 


LITERATURE. 


377 


tends  to  awaken  a pure  thought,  a flow  of  love,  an 
original  design  of  virtue,  I call  a worthy,  a true  com- 
memoration. 

4.  Fourthly,  the  importance  ascribed  to  this  partic- 
ular ordinance  is  not  consistent  with  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  general  object  and  effect  of  this  ordinance 
is  unexceptionable.  It  has  been,  and  is,  I doubt  not, 
the  occasion  of  indefinite  good;  but  an  importance  is 
given  by  Christians  to  it  which  never  can  belong  to  any 
form.  My  friends,  the  apostle  well  assures  us  that  “ the 
kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink,  but  righteous- 
ness and  peace  and  joy,  in  the  Holy  Ghost.”  I am  not 
so  foolish  as  to  declaim  against  forms.  Forms  are  as 
essential  as  bodies  ; but  to  exalt  particular  forms,  to 
adhere  to  one  form  a moment  after  it  is  out- grown,  is 
unreasonable,  and  it  is  alien  to  the  spirit  of  Christ.  If 
I understand  the  distinction  of  Christianity,  the  reason 
why  it  is  to  be  preferred  over  all  other  systems  and  is 
divine  is  this,  that  it  is  a moral  system  ; that  it  presents 
men  with  truths  which  are  their  own  reason,  and  enjoins 
practices  that  are  their  own  justification  ; that  if  miracles 
may  be  said  to  have  been  its  evidence  to  the  first  Chris- 
tians, they  are  not  its  evidence  to  us,  but  the  doctrines 
themselves  ; that  every  practice  is  Christian  which 
praises  itself,  and  every  practice  unchristian  which  con- 
demns itself.  I am  not  engaged  to  Christianity  by  decent 
forms,  or  saving  ordinances  ; it  is  not  usage,  it  is  not 
what  I do  not  understand,  that  binds  me  to  it — let  these 
be  the  sandy  foundations  of  falsehoods.  What  I revere 
and  obey  in  it  is  its  reality,  its  boundless  charity,  its 


378 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


deep  interior  life,  the  rest  it  gives  to  my  mind,  the  echo 
it  returns  to  my  thoughts,  the  perfect  accord  it  makes 
with  my  reason  through  all  its  representation  of  God 
and  His  Providence  ; and  the  persuasion  and  courage 
that  come  out  thence  to  lead  me  upward  and  onward. 
Freedom  is  the  essence  of.. this  faith.  It  has  .for  its 
object  simply  to  make  men  good  and  wise.  Its  institu- 
tions, them  should  be  as  flexible  as  the  .wants. of  men, 
That  form  out  of  which  the  life  and  suitableness  have 
departed,  should  be  as  worthless  in  its  eyes  as  the  dead 
leaves  that  are  falling  around  us. 

And  therefore,  although  for  the  satisfaction  of  others, 
I have  labored  to  show  by  the  history  that  this  rite  was 
not  intended  to  be  perpetual  ; although  I have  gone 
back  to  weigh  the  expressions  of  Paul,  1 feel  that  here 
is  the  true  point  of  view'.  In  the  midst  of  considera- 
tions as  to  what  Paul  thought,  and  why  he  so  thought, 
I cannot  help  feeling  that  it  is  time  misspent  to  argue 
to  or  from  his  convictions,  or  those  of  Luke  and  John, 
respecting  any  form.  I seem  to  lose  the  substance  in 
seeking  the  shadow.  That  for  which  Paul  lived  and 
died  so  gloriously;  that  for  which  Jesus  gave  himself 
to  be  crucified  ; the  end  that  animated  the  thousand 
martyrs  and  heroes  who  have  followed  his  steps,  was  to 
redeem  us  from  a formal  religion,  and  teach  us  to  seek 
our  well-being  in  the  formation  of  the  soul.  The  whole 
world  was  full  of  idols  and  ordinances.  The  Jewish  was 
a religion  of  forms.  The  Pagan  was  a religion  of  forms  ; 
it  was  all  body — it  had  no  life — and  the  Almighty  God 
was  pleased  to  qualify  and  send  forth  a man  to  teach 


LITERATURE. 


379 


men  that  they  must  serve  him  with  the  heart ; that  only 
that  life  was  religious  which  was  thoroughly  good  ; that 
sacrifice  was  smoke,  and  forms  were  shadows.  This 
man  lived  and  died  true  to  this  purpose  ; and  now,  with 
his  blessed  word  and  life  before  us,  Christians  must  con- 
tend that  it  is  a matter  of  vital  importance — really  a 
duty,  to  commemorate  him  by  a certain  form,  whether 
that  form  be  agreeable  to  their  understandings  or  not. 

Is  not  this  to  make  vain  the  gift  of  God  ? Is  not  this 
to  turn  back  the  hand  on  the  dial  ? Is  not  this  to  make 
men — to  make  ourselves — forget  that  not  forms,  but  du- 
ties ; not  names,  but  righteousness  and  love  are  enjoined  ; 
and  that  in  the  eye  of  God  there  is  no  other  measure  of 
the  value  of  any  one  form  than  the  measure  of  its  use  ? 

There  remain  some  practical  objections  to  the  ordi- 
nance into  which  I shall  not  now  enter.  There  is  one 
on  which  I had  intended  to  say  a few  words  ; I mean 
the  unfavorable  relation  in  which  it  places  that  numerous 
class  of  persons  who  abstain  from  it  merely  from  disin- 
clination to  the  rite. 

Influenced  by  these  considerations,  I have  proposed 
to  the  brethren  of  the  Church  to  drop  the  use  of  the 
elements  and  the  claim  of  authority  in  the  administration 
of  this  ordinance,  and  have  suggested  a mode  in  which  ' 
a meeting  for  the  same  purpose  might  be  held  free  of 
objection. 

My  brethren  have  considered  my  views  with  patience 
and  candor,  and  have  recommended  unanimously  an 
adherence  to  the  present  form.  I have,  therefore,  been 
compelled  to  consider  whether  it  becomes  me  to  admin- 


3So 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


ister  it.  I am  clearly  of  opinion  I ought  not.  This  dis- 
course has  already  been  so  far  extended,  that  I can  only 
say  that  the  reason  of  my  determination  is  shortly  this  : 
- — It  is  my  desire,  in  the  office  of  a Christian  minister,  to 
do  nothing  which  I cannot  do  with  my  whole  heart. 
Having  said  this,  I have  said  all.  I have  no  hostility 
to  this  institution  ; I am  only  stating  my  want  of  sym- 
pathy with  it.  Neither  should  I ever  have  obtruded 
this  opinion  upon  other  people,  had  I not  been  called  by 
my  office  to  administer  it.  That  is  the  end  of  my  oppo- 
sition, that  I am  not  interested  in  it.  I am  content  that 
it  stand  to  the  end  of  the  world,  if  it  please  men  and 
please  heaven,  and  I shall  rejoice  in  all  the  good  it 
produces. 

As  it  is  the  prevailing  opinion  and  feeling  in  our  re- 
ligious community,  that  it  is  an  indispensable  part  of 
the  pastoral  office  to  administer  this  ordinance,  I am 
about  to  resign  into  your  hands  that  office  which  you 
have  confided  to  me.  It  has  many  duties  for  which  I 
am  feebly  qualified.  It  has  some  which  it  will  always 
be  my  delight  to  discharge,  according  to  my  ability, 
wherever  I exist.  And  whilst  the  recollection  of  its 
claims  oppresses  me  with  a sense  of  my  unworthiness,  I 
am  consoled  by  the  hope  that  no  time  and  no  change 
can  deprive  me  of  the  satisfaction  of  pursuing  and  exer- 
cising its  highest  functions. 

September  9,  1832. 

The  influence  of  Transcendentalism  on  general  litera- 
ture can  be  only  indicated  in  loose  terms.  Its  current 


LITER  A TURE. 


38i 


was  so  strong,  that  like  the  Orinoco  rushing  down  be- 
tween the  South  American  continent  and  the  island  of 
Trinidad,  it  made  a bright  green  trail  upon  the  dark  sea 
into  which  it  poured,  but  the  vehemence  of  the  flood 
forbade  its  diffusion.  The  influence  was  chiefly  felt  on 
the  departments  of  philosophy  and  ethics.  It  created  the 
turbulent  literature  of  reform,  the  literature  born  of  the 
“Enthusiasm  of  Humanity,”  the  waves  whereof  are  still 
rolling,  though  not  with  their  original  force.  The  litera- 
ture of  politics  was  profoundly  affected  by  it  ; the  po- 
litical radicals,  philosophical  democrats,  anti-slavery 
whigs  or  republicans,  enthusiasts  for  American  ideas, 
prophets  of  America’s  destiny,  being,  more  or  less  wit- 
tingly, controlledby  its  ideas.  In  this  department  Par- 
ker made  himself  felt,  not  on  the  popular  mind  alone, 
but  on  the  recognized  leaders  of  opinion  East  and  West. 
The  writings  of  Sumner  and  his  school  owe  their  vigor 
to  these  ideas.  In  history  Bancroft  was  its  great  repre- 
sentative, his  earliest  volumes  especially  revealing  in 
the  richness,  depth,  and  hopefulness  of  their  interpre- 
tations of  men  and  measures,  the  faith  in  humanity 
so  strongly  characteristic  of  the  philosophy  he  pro- 
fessed. 

In  poetry  the  influence  is  distinctly  traceable,  though 
here  also  it  was  confined  within  somewhat  narrow  limits. 
Bryant  betrays  scarcely  perceptible  marks  of  it,  though 
he  ascribed  to  Wordsworth  a fresh  inspiration  of  love 
for  nature.  It  is  hardly  perceptible  in  Longfellow, 
whose  verse,  bubbling  from  the  heart,  gently  meanders 
over  the  meadows  and  through  the  villages,  gladdening 


TRANSCENDENTALISM. 


382 

daily  existence  with  its  music.  Neither  Bryant  nor 
Longfellow  had  the  intellectual  passion  that  Transcenden- 
talism roused.  The  earlier  pieces  of  Lowell,  the  anti- 
slavery lyrics  and  poems  of  sentiment,  were  inspired  by 
it.  Whittier  was  wholly  under  its  sway.  The  delicious 
sonnets  of  Jones  Very  were  oozings  from  its  spring. 
Julia  Ward  Howe’s  “ Passion  Flowers,”  though  pub- 
lished as  late  as  1854,  burn  and  throb  with  feeling  that 
had  its  source  in  these  heights. 

The  writers  of  elegant  literature,  essays,  romances, 
tales,  owed  to  Transcendentalism  but  a trifling  debt,  not 
worth  acknowledging.  They  were  out  of  range.  It 
was  their  task  to  entertain  people  of  leisure,  and  they 
derived  their  impulse  from  the  pleasure  their  writings 
gave  them  or  others.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
authors  like  Irving,  Paulding,  Cooper,  would  feel  an 
interest  in  ideas  so  grave  and  earnest,  or  would  catch  a 
suggestion  from  them.  But  Lydia  Maria  Child,  whose 
“Letters  from  New  York” — 1841,  1843 — were  models 
in  their  kind  ; whose  stories  for  young  people  have  not 
been  surpassed  by  those  of  any  writer,  except  Andersen  ; 
whose  more  labored  works  have  a quality  that  entitles 
them  to  a high  place  among  the  products  of  mind,  is  a 
devotee  of  the  transcendental  faith.  A very  remarka- 
ble book  in  the  department  of  fiction  was  Sylvester 
Judd’s  “ Margaret  ; a tale  of  the  Real  and  the  Ideal; 
Blight  and  Bloom.”  It  contained  the  material  for  half  a 
dozen  ordinary  novels  ; was  full  of  imagination,  aro- 
matic, poetical,  picturesque,  tender,  and  in  the  dress  of 
fiction  set  forth  the  whole  gospel  of  Transcendentalism 


LI  TER  A TV  RE.  383 

in  religion,  politics,  reform,  social  ethics,  personal  char- 
acter, professional  and  private  life. 

As  has  been  already  remarked,  the  transcendental 
faith  found  expression  in  magazines  and  newspapers, 
which  it  called  into  existence,  and  which  no  longer  sur- 
vive. Its  elaborate  compositions  were,  from  the  nature 
of  the  case,  few  ; its  intellectual  occupancy  was  too 
brief  for  the  creation  of  a permanent  literature.  Had 
Transcendentalism  been  chiefly  remarkable  as  a literary 
curiosity,  the  neglect  of  the  smallest  scrap  of  paper  it 
caused  to  'be  marked  with  ink  would  be  culpable.  As 
it  was,  primarily  and  to  the  end,  an  intellectual  episode, 
turning  on  a few  cardinal  ideas,  it  is  best  studied  in  the 
writings  and  lives  of  its  disciples.  They  knew  better 
than  any  body  what  they  wanted  ; they  were  best  ac- 
quainted with  their  own  ideas,  and  should  be  permitted 
to  speak  for  themselves.  Earnest  men  and  women  no 
doubt  they  were  ; better  educated  men  and  women  did 
not  live  in  America;  they  were  well  born,  well  nurtured, 
well  endowed.  Their  generation  produced  no  warmer 
hearts,  no  purer  spirits,  no  more  ardent  consciences,  no 
more  devoted  wills.  Their  philosophy  may  be  unsound, 
but  it  produced  noble  characters  and  humane  lives. 
The  philosophy  that  takes  its  place  may  rest  on  more 
scientific  foundations ; it  will  not  more  completely  justify 
its  existence  or  honor  its  day. 


THE  END. 


INDEX. 


A. 

Alcott,  Bronson,  contributes  to  “The  Dial,”  133;  on  the  transcendental 
philosophy,  tribute  to  Emerson  quoted,  246  ; the  mystic,  249  ; a follower 
of  Pythagoras,  251  ; “ Concord  Days ” quoted,  255  ; a leader  of  the 
transcendentalists,  257;  school  in  Cheshire,  Conn.,  262;  school  in 
England  named  for,  267  ; presides  at  reform  meetings  in  England,  272  ; 
superintendent  of  schools,  275  ; his  conversations,  283  ; writings  of,  358. 

Alcott,  Wm.  A.,  writes  on  physical  training,  262. 

Alexandria,  school  of,  61. 

American  Unitarian  Association,  tract  published  by,  120. 

Aristotle,  categories  of,  in. 

Arius,  advocate  of  Unitarian  philosophy,  109. 

B. 

Bacon,  Lord  Francis,  Macaulay  on  his  philosophy,  139. 

Bain,  principles  of  the  sensational  philosophy  stated  by,  205. 

Bancroft,  George,  his  account  of  Herder,  47  ; History  of  the  United  States 
quoted,  117;  champion  of  the  spiritual  philosophy,  117,  118;  traces  of 
transcendentalism  in  his  historical  writings,  381. 

Barni,  Jules,  translates  Kant  into  French,  61. 

Bartol,  C.  A.,  belongs  to  the  transcendental  school,  341. 

Baur,  follower  of  the  Hegelian  ideas,  186. 

Biblical  repository,  articles  on  transcendentalism  in,  137. 

Bibliotheca  Sacra,  article  on  transcendentalism  in,  92. 

Biographia  Literaria,  of  Coleridge,  quoted,  82;  criticised  by  Edinburgh 
Review,  91  ; Wordsworth’s  poetry  considered  in,  97. 

“Blithedale  Romance,”  published  by  Hawthorne,  175. 

Blodgett,  Levi,  nom  de  plume  of  Theodore  Parker,  125. 

Boehme,  Jacob,  doctrine  of,  257. 

Boston  Quarterly  Review  started  by  O.  A.  Brownson,  128. 

Bouillet  translates  Plotinus,  61. 

Brisbane,  Albert,  disciple  of  Fourier,  156. 

Brook  Farm,  the  experiment  at,  157;  constitution  quoted,  159;  mod£.of 
life  there,  164-169  ; breaking  up  of  the  society,  170. 

17 


386  INDEX. 

Brooks,  C.  T.,  makes  translations  from  German  authors,  56  ; German  lyrics 
translated  by,  116. 

Brownson,  Orestes  A.,  description  of,  128;  converted  to  Romanism,  131 ; 
writings,  358. 

Bruno,  Giordano,  founder  of  the  Dynamic  System,  81. 

Bryant,  Wm.  C.,  transcendental  spirit  not  found  in  his  writings,  381. 

Butler  fights  against  infidelity  in  his  Analogy,  185. 

C. 

Cabanis,  philosophy  of,  63  ; skeptic  of  the  18th  century,  187. 

Cabot,  Eliot,  contributes  to  “The  Dial,”  133. 

Calvin,  denies  doctrine  of  consubstantiation,  364. 

Cambridge  Divinity  School,  address  before,  by  James  Walker,  121-123. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  interprets  the  German  thinkers,  52  ; quoted,  52  ; trans- 
lates Wilhelm  Meister,  56  ; opinion  of  Coleridge  quoted,  77-92  ; 
change  in  his  mode  of  thought,  94  ; the  preacher  of  transcendentalism, 
103  ; articles  on  Richter  and  German  literature,  116. 

Chalybaus,  his  verdict  on  Jacobi  quoted,  25. 

Channing,  Dr.  William,  not  a transcendentalist  in  theory,  nr  ; feeling  toward 
Christ,  in;  letters  of,  quoted,  112;  transcendentalist  in  sentiment, 
113;  quoted,  1 1 3 ; contributes  to  “The  Dial,”  133;  tribute  to  Alcott, 
259;  judgment  of  Margaret  Fuller,  293;  writings  of,  350. 

Channing,  William  Ellery,  writings  of,  340. 

Channing,  Wm.  H.,  version  of  Jouffroy  published,  1 16  ; contributes  to  “The 
Dial,”  133  ; writes  on  social  topics,  330;  works  of,  336;  as  an  orator, 
338;  writings  of,  360. 

Chapin,  E.  H.,  speaks  against  capital  punishment,  337. 

Chauvet,  on  philosophy  of  the  ancients,  61. 

Cheever,  Geo.  B.,  article  in  N.  A.  Review,  92. 

Cheshire,  Conn.,  school  at,  262. 

Child,  Lydia  Maria,  a writer  of  the  transcendental  school,  382. 

Christian  Examiner,  account  of  Herder  in,  47 ; article  by  F.  D.  Hedge  in, 
92  ; article  by  James  Walker  in,  120;  articles  on  transcendentalism  in, 
137;  review  on  Emerson  in,  138. 

Clarke,  James  Freeman,  edits  De  Wette,  116  ; contributes  to  “ The  Dial,” 
133  ; judgment  of  Margaret  Fuller,  293  ; an  early  transcendentalist,  343. 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  influence  of  Schelling  on,  40  ; the  prophet  of 
transcendentalism  in  England,  76 ; his  studies  in  Germany,  79 ; on 
Schelling’s  works,  80  ; alleged  plagiarism  from  Schelling,  81. 


INDEX.  387 

Coleridge,  Biographia  Literaria,  quoted,  82  ; the  true  founder  of  the  Broad 
church,  89  ; described  by  Talfourd  and  Hazlitt,  90. 

Coleridge,  Carlyle’s  verdict  on,  92  ; his  sympathy  with  German  literature, 
96  ; the  philosopher  of  transcendentalism,  103  ; makes  Lessing’s  works 
familiar,  116;  article  on  by  Mill,  206. 

Coleridge,  Sarah,  note  by,  in  Biographia  Literaria,  88. 

Communism  in  Massachusetts,  157. 

Concord  Days , by  A.  B.  Alcott,  quoted,  246. 

Condillac,  doctrine  of,  62  ; skeptic  of  the  18th  century.  187. 

Congregationalists,  followers  of  Schleiermacher  among,  50. 

Constant,  English  translations  from,  by  Geo.  Ripley,  116. 

Consubstantiation  taught  by  Luther,  364  ; denied  by  Calvin,  364. 

Consuelo  translated  by  F.  G.  Shaw,  329. 

Copernicus  revolutionizes  astronomy,  10. 

Cousin,  Victor,  philosophical  works  of,  61  ; French  follower  of  the  Scotch 
school,  66 ‘;  his  system  of  philosophy,  67-75;  English  translations 
from,  1 16;  philosophical  miscellanies  noticed  by  the  press,  117. 

Cranch,  C.  P.,  contributes  to  “The  Dial,”  133;  lines  from,  quoted,  146; 
writes  for  “The  Harbinger,”  330. 

Curtis,  Geo.  Wm.,  writes  for  “ The  Harbinger,”  330. 


D. 

Dana,  Chas.  A.,  writes  for  “ The  Harbinger,”  330. 

Degerando,  lectures  on  Kant’s  philosophy,  in  Paris,  115. 

Descartes,  doctrine  of  innate  ideas  ascribed  to,  15. 

De  Wette,  students  of,  in  the  United  States,  116;  Theodor  and  Ethics, 
English  edition  of,  116  ; living  faith  in  God  aided  by,  121. 

D’Holbach,  skeptic  of  the  18th  century,  187. 

Dial,  the,  publisher’s  letter  on  Herder,  47  ; Tribute  to  Wordsworth  in, 
quoted,  97-99;  articles  in,  132;  writes  for,  133;  ancient  scriptures 
printed  in,  135  ; article  on  Margaret  Fuller  in,  176;  contains  account 
of  English  reform  meetings,  273. 

Digby,  Sir  Kenelm,  story  related  by,  199. 

Dietetics,  theory  and  practice  of,  introduced  by  transcendentalists,  150. 

Discourses  on  Religion , work  by  Schleiermacher,  48. 

Dwight,  J.  S.,  makes  translations  from  German  authors,  56;  edits  selec- 
tions from  Goethe  and  Schiller,  1 16  ; contributes  to  “ The  Dial,”  133  ; 
quoted,  148;  writes  musical  articles  for  “The  Harbinger,”  330. 

Dynamic  system,  the,  begun  by  Giordano  Bruno,  80. 


388 


INDEX. 


E. 

Eckermann’s  conversations  with  Goethe  translated  into  English,  1 1 6. 

Edinburgh  Review  contains  article  by  Carlyle,  52 ; criticises  Biographia 
Literaria,  91. 

Edwards,  Jonathan,  spirit  of  his  writings,  108. 

Elements  of  Psychology , work  by  C.  S.  Henry,  published,  75. 

Emerson,  Charles,  contributes  to  “ The  Dial,”  133  ; articles  quoted,  222. 

Emerson,  R.  W. , edits  Carlyle’s  Miscellanies,  93-1 16 ; on  Wordsworth, 
99;  an  idealist,  1 1 5 ; retires  from  the  ministry,  120;  publication  of 
“ Nature,”  122  ; essays  published,  127  ; quoted,  142  ; edits  “ The  Dial,” 
132;  lecture  on  transcendentalism  quoted,  133;  lecture  on  “ The  Re- 
former ” quoted,  153;  address  before  Divinity  College,  200 ; tribute 
paid  by  Tyndall  to,  214-243  ; appreciation  of  by  German  readers, 
218;  published  works,  224;  works  quoted  from,  228;  letter  to  his 
church,  232;  judgment  of  Margaret  Fuller,  285  ; sermon  of,  reprinted, 

363- 

Encyclopaedists,  influence  of,  in  France,  187. 

England,  idealists  of,  1 ; metaphysical  schools  in,  2 ; transcendentalism  in, 
78-105. 

Epictetus,  works  of,  edited  by  Idigginson,  350. 

Excursion,  Wordsworth’s,  quoted,  101. 

F. 

Felton,  Prof.  C.  C.,  translates  Menzel,  58  ; edits  Menzel’s  German  litera- 
ture, 1 16. 

Fichte,  Johann  Gotlieb,  treatises  of,  28  ; effect  of  Kant’s  system  upon,  28  ; 
outline  of  his  system  of  reasoning,  31-40  ; the  idealists  of  New  Eng- 
land his  followers,  46 ; few  copies  of  his  works  found  in  the  United 
States,  1 16. 

Fiske,  John,  cosmic  philosophy  quoted,  21 1. 

Foreign  Review,  contains  article  on  Novalis,  52. 

Fourierism  not  welcomed  by  transcendentalists,  156. 

France,  philosophy  in,  60  ; transcendentalism  in,  105  ; skepticism  in,  189. 

Francis,  Convers;  apostle  of  transcendentalism,  353. 

Franck,  Adolphe,  explains  the  Jewish  Kabbala,  71. 

Frederick  the  Great,  court  of,  187. 

Frothingham,  Dr.  N.  L.,  student  of  German  literature,  47. 

Fuller,  Margaret,  article  on  Goethe,  57  ; translates  from  the  German,  116; 
edits  “ The  Dial,”  132.  Women  in  the  igtk  Century  quoted,  177-181  ; 
memoirs  of,  published,  284  ; judgment  of,  by  Emerson,  285  ; on  meta- 


INDEX. 


389 

physics  and  religion,  286;  as  a critic,  287;  edits  “The  Dial,”  289; 
biographical  account  of,  293  ; writings  of,  358. 

Furness,  W.  H.,  maintains  belief  in  the  miracles,  202. 

G. 

Galileo,  experiments  of,  8. 

Greaves,  James  Pierrepont,  founds  the  Alcott  School  near  London,  267  ; 
letter  of,  267. 

Grimm,  Herman,  essay  on  R.  W.  Emerson,  218. 

Grote,  opinion  on  moral  intuition,  216. 

German  Lyrics,  translation  by  Chas.  Brooks,  116. 

Germany,  transcendentalism  in,  14-105;  philosophy  of,  60;  under  the  in- 
fluence of  idealism,  186. 

Gibbon,  his  history  assailed  by  the  church,  185. 

Goethe,  appreciation  of,  in  New  England,  57. 

H. 

Hamilton,  Sir  William,  Mill’s  criticism  of,  207. 

Harbinger,  The,  started  in  1845,  327  ; list  of  contributors  to,  329. 

Haureau  writes  on  philosophy  of  the  middle  ages,  61. 

Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  notes  on  Brook  Farm  quoted,  171  ; Blithedale 
Romance , 175. 

Ifazlitt,  William,  account  of  Coleridge’s  preaching,  90. 

Hedge,  F.  K.,  German  translations  made  by,  56;  writes  articles  in 
“ Christian  Examiner,”  92. 

Hegel,  the  successor  of  Schelling,  43 ; verdict  on  Jacobi  quoted,  26 ; 

system  of  philosophy,  43-45. 

Helvetius,  skeptic  of  the  18th  century,  187. 

Henry,  C.  L.,  publishes  elements  of  psychology,  75  ; his  admiration  for 
Coleridge,  89. 

Herder,  translations  of,  into  English,  47  ; works  of,  read  in  the  United 
States,  1 16. 

Higginson,  T.  W.,  a disciple  of  transcendentalism,  350. 

History  of  Philosophy,  by  Cousin,  75. 

Hume,  his  system  of  reasoning,  16. 


I. 

Idealism  in  England,  7 ; in  New  England,  1 1 5 ; in  Germany,  186. 

Jacobi,  Frederick,  his  system  of  faith,  24  ; idealists  of  New  England  his 
followers,  46  ; his  works  in  the  United  States,  116. 


39° 


INDEX. 


Janet,  Paul,  explains  Plato,  61. 

Jeffrey  criticised  Coleridge’s  Biographia  Literaria,  gi. 

Johnson,  Sam.uel,  work  on  the  “ Religions  of  India,”  quoted,  345  ; be- 
longs to  the  transcendental  school,  347. 

JoufFroy,  Theodore,  French  follower  of  the  Scotch  school,  66;  I?itroductio7i 
to  Ethics,  English  edition  of,  1 14. 

Judd,  Sylvester,  a novelist  of  the  transcendental  school,  382. 

Kant,  Immanuel,  publishes  “ Critique  of  Pure  Reason  ” (1781);  Character 
of  his  work,  6;  starting-point  of  his  philosophy,  9 ; Critique  of  Pure 
Reason  quoted,  14;  Outline  of  his  system  of  reasoning,  16-21;  Carlyle 
on  his  philosophy,  53  ; Menzel  on  his  philosophy,  57  ; translated  into 
.Trench,  61  ; reintroduces  the  Dynamic  system,  81  ; lectures  on  his 
philosophy  in  Paris,  115  ; few  copies  of  his  works  in  the  United  States, 
1 16. 

Knickerbocker  Magazine,  articles  on  transcendentalism  in,  137. 

L. 

Laromiguiere,  disciple  of  Condillac,  65. 

Leibnitz,  theory  of,  15. 

Letters  to  a Young  Theologian,  by  Herder,  47. 

Lewes,  George  H.,  criticism  on  John  Locke  cited,  5 ; Problems  of  Life 
and  Mind,  quoted  212. 

Linberg,  Ii.  G.,  translator  of  Cousin,  75. 

Locke,  John,  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding,  3;  called  “Father 
of  Modern  Psychology,”  3 ; character  of  his  work,  4 ; opposes  the 
doctrine  of  innate  ideas,  his  ideas  introduced  into  France,  61  ; piety 
of,  62  ; framed  a constitution  for  the  New  World,  1 1 7 ; Bancroft  on, 

118. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  the  transcendental  spirit  not  in  his  writings,  382. 

Longfellow,  Samuel,  transcendentalist  of  the  mystical  type,  347  ; hymns  by, 

347- 

Lord,  D.  N.,  writer  in  Lord’s  Theological  Journal , 92. 

Lord’s  Supper,  the,  sermon  on,  by  Emerson. 

Lord’s  Theological  Journal,  92. 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  his  early  poems  breathe  the  transcendental  spirit,  382. 

Luther,  Martin,  teaches  doctrine  of  consubstantiation,  364. 


M. 

Macaulay,  T.  B.,  article  on  Lord  Bacon,  quoted,  139. 
Maine  de  Biran,  philosophy  of,  65. 


INDEX . 


391 


Margaret , novel  setting  forth  the  gospel  of  transcendentalism,  382. 

Marsh,  Dr.  James,  translates  Herder’s  Spirit  of  Hebrew  Poetry,  47. 

Martineau,  Harriet,  calls  Alcott  the  American  Pestalozzi,  267. 

Martineau,  James,  letter  of  Channing  to,  112. 

Mathematics,  progress  in,  7. 

Maurice,  Frederick  Denison,  admirer  of  Coleridge,  142. 

May,  Rev.  S.  J. , account  of  Alcott’s  school,  262. 

Menzel,  opinion  of  Goethe  quoted,  57  ; German  Literature,  Engish  edition 
of,  1 1 6. 

Mill,  principles  of  sensational  philosophy  stated  by,  205  ; article  on  Cole- 
ridge, 206  ; work  on  logic  quoted,  208  ; commends  Taine’s  work,  212. 

N. 

Nature , by  R.  W.  Emerson,  quoted,  312. 

New  England  Maga,  articles  on  transcendentalism  in,  137. 

New  England,  transcendentalism  in,  105  ; religion  of,  107  ; idealism  in,  115. 

New  Hegelians,  the,  45. 

New  York  Review,  92. 

Nominalists,  the,  tenets  maintained  by,  2. 

North  American  Review,  92. 

Norton,  Andrews,  assails  Schleiermacher,  48  ; attacks  transcendentalism, 
123  ; controversy  with  George  Ripley,  124. 

Novalis,  article  on,  by  Carlyle,  52  ; his  philosophy  defined  by  Carlyle,  55. 

O. 

Orphic  Sayings  of  Alcott  quoted,  259. 

Osgood,  Samuel,  edits  DeWette,  116. 

P. 

Parker,  Theodore,  referred  to  by  Channing,  enters  into  the  transcendental 
controversy,  125;  contributes  to  “ The  Dial,”  133;  work  meditated 
by,  192  ; strong  faith  in  immortality,  196  ; “ Levi  Blodgett  ” letter 
quoted,  200;  blending  of  realism  and  transcendentalism  in,  305  ; as  a 
preacher  of  transcendental  views,  308;  writings  of,  357. 

Passover,  the  feast  of,  celebrated  by  Jesus,  364-366  ; as  kept  by  Jews, 
368. 

Paul  of  Samosata,  advocate  of  Unitarian  theology,  109. 

Peabody,  Elizabeth,  writes  record  of  a school,  265. 

Pelagius,  advocate  of  Unitarian  theology,  109. 

Penn,  Wm.,  framed  constitution  for  the  New  World,  1 1 7 ; Bancroft  on, 

u& 


392 


INDEX. 


Perfect  Life,  the  work  by  Dr.  Charming,  113. 

Phillips,  Wendell,  speaks  against  capital  punishment,  337. 

Physics  established  as  a science,  8. 

Platonism,  transcendental  in  its  essence,  108. 

Plotinus  translated  by  Bouillet. 

Porter,  Noah,  writes  article  in  Bibliotheca  Sacra,  92. 

Princeton  Review,  articles  on  transcendentalism  in,  137. 

Priestley,  Joseph,  able  representative  of  Unitarianism,  185. 

Pythagoras,  the  ancient  teacher  of  dietetics,  151  ; H.  B.  A’lcott  on,  251. 


Q. 

Quakerism,  tribute  to,  by  George  Bancroft,  1 1 7 ; compared  with  tran- 
scendentalism, 1 19. 


R. 

Rahn,  Johanna,  letter  of  Fichte  to,  29. 

Rationale  of  Religious  Inquiry,  by  Martineau,  123. 

Ravaisson,  Felix,  writes  reports  on  French  philosophy,  61. 

Realists,  the,  tenets  maintained  by,  2. 

Religous  affections,  the,  treatise  on,  by  Jonathan  Edwards,  108. 

Remusat,  Charles  de,  writer  on  French  philosophy,  61. 

Review,  North  American,  account  of  Plerder  in,  47. 

Reymond,  Dubois,  address  to  German  naturalists  quoted,  250. 

Richter,  Carlyle  on  his  philosophy,  55  ; works  of,  56. 

Ripley,  George,  his  account  of  Herder,  47  ; account  of  Schleiermacher, 
4S  ; estimate  of  Cousin’s  philosophy,  74  ; edits  specimens  of  foreign 
standard  literature,  116;  review  of  James  Martineau,  123;  reply  to 
Andrews  Norton,  125  ; contributes  to  “The  Dial,”  133;  his  influence 
in  spreading  transcendentalism,  322  ; published  works  of,  324  ; contro- 
versy with  Andrews  Norton,  325  ; at  Brook  Farm,  325. 

Ripley,  George,  edits  “The  Harbinger,”  328;  literary  critic  of  “The 
Tribune,”  332. 

Robbins,  Samuel  D.,  quoted,  145. 

Romanism  not  at  home  in  New  England,  107. 

Rousseau,  J.  J.,  the  ideas  of  the  new  philosophy  expressed  by,  17. 

Rousselot  writes  on  philosophy  of  the  middle  age,  61. 

Royer-Collard,  French  followers  of  the  Scotch  school,  66. 

Russell  edits  first  journal  of  education,  262. 


INDEX. 


393 


S. 

Saint  Hilaire,  Barthelemy,  French  philosopher,  61. 

Saisset,  Emil,  translates  Spinoza,  61. 

Schelling,  system  of  philosophy,  40-43  ; Transce7idental  Idealism  pub- 
lished, 80  ; few  copies  of  his  works  found  in  the  United  States,  116. 
Schiller,  letter  on  Kant’s  philosophy  quoted,  54  ; on  Richter,  54. 
Schleiermacher,  influence  of,  48  ; quoted,  49  ; philosophy  of,  50  ; students 
of,  in  the  United  States,  116;  faith  in  God  promoted  by,  122. 
Schoolmen,  the,  their  use  of  the  word  transcendental,  11. 

Sensationalism  in  England,  2 ; reaction  against,  188;  the  God  of,  190; 
ideas  of  immortality,  1 93-197  ; its  philosophy  revived  by  Mill  and 
others,  205. 

Shaw,  Francis  G.,  translates  Consuelo  for  “ The  Harbinger,”  329. 

Simon,  Jules,  explains  the  Alexandrian  school,  61. 

Skepticism  in  France,  18th  century.  187  ; brought  to  America,  188. 

Smith,  William,  publishes  memoirs  of  wichte  (1843),  27. 

Socialists,  New  York  union  of,  339. 

Socinius,  advocate  of  Unitarian  theology,  109. 

Southern  Literary  Messenger,  92. 

Specimens  of  Foreign  Standard  Literature , edited  by  George  Ripley,  116. 
Spencer,  principles  of  the  sensational  philosophy  stated  by,  205  ; system  of, 
hostile  to  intuitive  philosophy,  208. 

Spinoza,  translated  by  Saisset,  61. 

Spirit  of  Hebrew  poetry,  by  Herder,  47. 

Stael,  Madame  de,  gives  an  account  of  Kant’s  philosophy,  115. 

Stahl,  experiments  of,  8. 

Stone,  Thomas. T.,  article  in  “ The  Dial”  quoted,  144. 

St.  Paul,  his  view  of  the  Lord’s  Supper,  371. 

Strauss  a disciple  of  Hegel,  186. 


T. 

Taine,  principles  of  the  sensational  philosophy  stated  by,  205  ; work  on 
Intelligence  quoted,  212;  criticism  of  Tyndall,  212. 

Talfourd,  Sergeant,  his  account  of  Coleridge,  90. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  rising  glory  of,  103. 

Thoreau,  Henry  D.,  contributes  to  “The  Dial,”  133. 

Tissot  translates  Kant  into  French,  61. 

Torricelli,  experiments  of,  S. 

17* 


394 


INDEX. 


Transcendentalism,  chiefly  communicated  through  German  literature,  51; 
influence  on  German  literature,  51  ; its  apostles  in  the  New  World, 
103;  in  New  England,  105;  borders  on  Platonism,  107;  an  enlarged 
orthodoxy,  108  ; imported  in  foreign  packages,  115  ; Quakerism  com- 
pared with,  1 19;  advocated  by  James  Walker,  122;  attacked  by  An- 
drews Norton,  123  ; legitimate  fruits  of,  143;  defined  by  Emerson, 
127;  literary  achievements  of,  132;  essentially  poetic,  134;  a dis- 
tinct system  of  philosophy,  136;  misconceptions  of,  138;  practical 
usefulness  of  the  disciples  of,  140;  objections  to,  149;  inaugurated  the 
practice  of  dietetics,  150  ; favorable  to  all  reform  movements,  155  ; 
ideas  of  women,  1S1  ; relation  to  questions  of  religion,  184;  reaction 
against  sensationalism,  189;  tire,  faith  of,  190-192  ; asserts  immortal- 
ity of  the  soul,  193-196  ; accepts  the  miracles,  201  ; its  view  of  Chris- 
tianity, 204;  superseded  by  idealism,  215;  as  a gospel,  302;  end  of 
one  phase  of,  332  ; defined  by  Bartol,  342  ; minor  followers  of,  355— 
356  ; literature  of,  357-372. 

Trinitarianism  of  Platonic  origin,  107  ; avowed  by  idealists,  109  ; its  debt 
to  Unitarianism,  1 13. 

Tuckerman,  H.  T.,  writes  for  Southern  Literary  Messenger,  92. 

Tubingen,  follower  of  the  Hegelian  idea,  1S6. 

Tyndall,  John,  address  of,  quoted,  210;  objections  to,  by  Taine,  212. 

U. 

Unitarians,  the,  belong  to  the  school  of  Locke,  109  ; of  New  England, 
no;  friends  to  free  thought,  114. 

Unitarianism  represented  in  England  by  Priestley,  115. 

V. 

Vacherot,  Etienne,  explains  the  Alexandrian  school,  61. 

Vere,  Aubrey  de,  lines  on  Coleridge,  78. 

Volney  popular  in  the  eighteenth  century,  187. 

Voltaire  introduces  Locke’s  ideas  into  France,  61  ; the  great  name  among 
eighteenth  century  skeptics,  187. 

W. 

Walker,  James,  avows  transcendental  views,  120;  quoted,  120,  121  ; his 
theory  of  moral  intuition,  215. 

Wasson,  U.  A.,  sermons  and  poems  of,  349. 

Wedgewood,  Josiah  and  Thomas,  send  Coleridge  to  Germany,  79. 

Weiss,  John,  philosophical  writings  and  translations,  351. 


INDEX. 


395 


Westminster  Review  contains  article  by  Mill,  206. 

Whig  Review,  articles  on  transcendentalism  in,  137. 

Whittier,  John  G.,  uuder  the  sway  of  transcendental  ideas,  382. 

Wordsworth,  Wm.,  in  Germany  with  Coleridge,  79;  kinship  between 
Coleridge  and,  96  ; his  poetry  discussed  in  Biographia  Literaria , 97  ; 
preface  to  his  poems  quoted,  100  ; Ode  to  Immortality  and  Excur- 
sion quoted,  101  ; the  poets  of  the  transcendentalists,  103  ; lines 
from,  quoted,  141. 


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